Misery
by Lucadris
Summary: 07movieverse, one year after the Mission city-battle. How do you unlock a confined heart of misery? OptimusOC. On Hiatus.
1. Prologue

**A/N:** Hopefully I won't stop in the middle with this one!!! (panicks) I just felt that I **had** to transfer my ideas into writings, or otherwise my brain was gonna burst… please be nice!!(gulps)

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN TRANSFORMERS. I ONLY OWN THE PLOT AND THE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS OF THIS FANFIC.**

As _always_, it's totally random. OptimusOC. Enjoy.

* * *

A year had passed since the battle at the Mission City. The scar of the battle had been healed, despite the loss of their comrade, Jazz, and everyone had settled down into what could be basically called a 'life'. For Sam and Mikaela, a new school year was about to begin. The entire school was buzzing with energy as they walked through the corridor. They could see familiar faces and some new faces, tense and yet excited. They could see Miles, the same old Miles, waving at them. They waved back to him. They also spotted Trent DeMarco, the school jock who was a typical Mr. Popular, and at the same time, a bully who terrorized people solely for his enjoyment. Jeeringly strutting around the corridor, he was scaring some newcomers and lower-grades.

"What a jerk," said Mikaela, disgusted, scowling at Trent harassing a group of juniors, until they scattered away and a teacher appeared with a crossed look on his face.

"Yeah. A year's passed and hardly anything's changed," Sam snorted, crossing the corridor to enter their new classroom.

The classroom was half-filled with students. Some they recognized; some they did not. Among the faces they haven't seen before, there was a girl. She sat alone in the corner, gazing into a book. She did not look like she would welcome someone else's presence other than her own. The air around her seemed black and bleak for some reason. Anyhow, nobody seemed to be too keen to greet her. Her expression was clueless; it was not that she looked idiotic, but her face was an absolutely perfect poker-face, and it was barely visible from inky dyed hair falling all over it. She didn't look so special, but rather like a common gothic teenager.

"Do you think it's gonna be a great year this year?" Mikaela asked, settling down on a chair. Sam sat down next to her.

"May be. I don' think it'll be too dismal." Said Sam. Mikaela laughed and kissed him on the cheek.

The roll was called. Their new teacher, Mr. Kendall, introduced himself and mused on about being a 12th former and the importance of doing well academically, putting in a lot of effort, etc, etc. It was difficult for the students to suppress their yawning, but finally it was over and each student had a chance to introduce oneself to the class. Light-hearted clapping and sometimes, immature wolf-whistles were heard. After a boy with a short reddish hair sat down, it was the gothic girl's turn. She didn't stand up immediately, even as the whole class was anticipating her. Slowly, like a doll whose spring was too loose to get up quickly enough, she pushed the chair behind her and straightened her legs.

She was quite tall, now they could see it. She stood for about 5 ft 9 inches, with lean arms and legs. She wore a pair of tight jeans, which was tattered around her ankles, and a top so long that it came down to the middle of her thigh. The sleeves covered her hands. To no one's surprise, everything she was wearing was black, black, black. Even her worn sneakers were black. Her mid-back-long hair was dyed black, and hung straight down. They would have thought she had used a jarful of hair wax, seeing the way not a single hair shot out of row. Her face was translucently pale, as if she had bathed in moonlight. Her feline eyes, revealed only very slightly between all that raven hair, were also black, probably the effect of wearing colored contact lenses. Her eyes looked sleepy, bored, or just plainly uninterested. She blinked twice, then opened her thin lips to speak.

"The name's Misery," she glanced towards Mr. Kendall's desk absently, and he flinched, "not that stupid name written on the roll. Just to make it clear." Then she sat down, resumed reading the book. They only then realized that she hadn't been listening to the peers at all, but was simply reading the whole time. The stunned, awkward silence drifted away after few moments, but there still was an icy, thin layer of it left on the classroom.

"Oh, alright… Er… so you'd prefer to be called… 'Misery', yes?" said Mr. Kendall, slightly overawed by her. She nodded, not getting her eyes off the book. He sighed, and muttering quietly to himself, scribbled something into the roll book.

"Wow. Talk about the fancy attitude." Murmured Mikaela, then turned to her boyfriend, "Do you still think it won't be too dismal?"

"On the second thought," said Sam, "May be it will be." He gulped overactingly, and Mikaela laughed.

* * *

**A/N continued:** Yep. The story's started. You'll leave a review, won't you? (eyes glitter) 


	2. To make oneself known

Thanks for the reviews. I've just finished my another fanfic, The Scent of Wind, and oh boy, it was SUCH a job! (sweats) But anyhow, now I can focus wholly on this. I'll try to make this one a better fanfic than TSW...

P.S: When it's in the 1st person's point-of-view, it's Misery's point-of-view. Just to make it clear.

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN TRANSFORMERS. I ONLY OWN THE PLOT AND THE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS OF THIS FANFIC.**

* * *

I was a willful shadow; staying out of peoples' paths, alone, plunged in the glumness. I was used to this, this tight web, an armor I had sewn myself into. It cut off all the reaches of people towards me, and it suspended me from stretching my hands to grab them. The world was a cruel place, with cruel people swarming in it. I was a misanthrope, a misfit as they had dubbed me; a shameful failure of what they had done. They had obviously forgotten that it was them who had molded me into what I was now. The misfortunes of my life and their hypocrisy and capriciousness were related to each other like a pair of inseparable identical twins. Bittersweet, they were; I hated them, yet I thanked them for making me stronger, more callous.

The old sayings were right: No pains, no gains. It was the pains which had shaped me.

* * *

A week had passed, and the new school life had started. Sam and Mikaela quickly established into the new class, making new friends and socializing. Everyone was excited and cheerful. Except for Misery; her presence was quite unnoticeable, for she was always quiet and never stood out, but she cast a gloomy air around her like an invisible barrier between other people and her. She never wore anything other than black. When someone courageous enough tried to strike up a conversation with her, she would either stare at that someone until he or she, embarrassed, drew away; or very unwillingly, mumble a few words then withdraw back into her place. Thus nobody really tried to be friends with her or speak with her anymore.

"What's her problem?" Mikaela had heard the girls complain, "She's an emo; a loner and nobody."

And she was still the same today: silent, sitting in her seat at the corner, reading a book. Mikaela couldn't help but throw glances at her; she reminded her of someone, someone she felt like she had seen before. But she just couldn't remember who it was.

"Mikaela?" Sam asked, slightly alarmed, grabbing her arm. Mikaela then realized that she was almost at the verge of tearing her hair out in annoyance. Sighing heavily, she let her hand down and smiled at Sam.

"Nothing. Let's get some lunch." She stood up, and walked away with Sam. Just before she left the classroom, she flashed a look at Misery.

Such a strange, cold girl.

* * *

I closed the book. The girls still remaining in the classroom murmured and whispered, looking at me, as if I couldn't hear them. Yeah, right.

Ignoring them altogether, I got up to go outside for fresh air. This classroom was stuffy, curtains drawn over the windows to shut out the sunlight.

The corridor was bustling, almost filled to the exploding point with people. I rushed past them, trying not to breathe in the mixed air of thousands of different odors. Once I was on a sunny grass field, I could pause for a breath. I sat down, stretched out my legs. The grass was spotted with few groups of students, sitting, talking, minding their own business.

I raised my head to look at the blotch of sunlight. So peaceful. It was everything I had wished for. Peace. Silence. Nothing more.

"Hey," someone stood over me, pushing his face only few inches over mine.

My faint smile turned into a dark, blank expression as my ray of light was blocked from a shadow looming over me. I slowly stood up, and stared at those who disturbed me.

The boy was standing in front of a group, his attitude self-important and arrogant. There were few girls in the group as well, wearing short, revealing skirts and tops so tight it was doubtful whether they could possibly breathe in them. Among them, I recognized one. She was the girl leaning against the leader, with a proud smile, attempting to look down on me- which was virtually impossible because she was a hand-span shorter than me. She was the girl who had bothered me the most- with a swarm of giggly, immature friends behind her, she kept annoying me by asking 

useless questions and nagging me to join them. I chose to ignore her, which infuriated her and she prattled and gossiped about me ever since. As if I cared.

The boy-with his one arm around the annoying girl's waist- flashed a smile which he must have thought was dashing. He had an oily and greasy manner, a sheer insolence.

"You're the new girl, huh?" he asked. I just stared at him. The groups of people on the grass started to notice us, and turned their heads around to see.

"Are you dumb or something?" he jeered, but I stayed silent. No need to tire my mouth by answering an asshole.

He approached me. His girlfriend, with a smug expression on her face, looked at me, sneering. The boy was only like an inch taller than me. I stood my ground.

"I heard you embarrassed Keisha," he spoke, indicating his smirking girlfriend who was grinning triumphantly, "and I don't like it when one of my friends get embarrassed."

"_She_ was the one who was bothering me." I answered, finally choosing to react. They raised an eyebrow, apparently surprised that I'd answer.

"I don't give a shit what you think; apologize to Keisha, and I won't knock your front teeth out." He growled, showing his true colors. I couldn't help but lift a disdainful smile. So he was her knight in the shining armor, here to protect her honor; whatever. They could just dump it in the sewer. The boy seemed startled, surprised at someone should question his authority.

"No," I said firmly, the tone of my voice darkening, "because I've done nothing wrong."

"Then you're gonna pay for it." he spoke menacingly. Cracking his knuckles displayingly, he stepped towards me.

* * *

Mikaela and Sam turned their heads as a buzz of excitement spread through the students. Following the flow, they saw that students were crowding on the grass field, chanting 'Fight! Fight!' repeatedly.

"Is someone fighting?" asked Mikaela, frowning.

"I dunno. Let's go and check it out." Said Sam excitedly, pulling Mikaela to join the crowd. Shaking her head and groaning 'boys…' Mikaela followed her boyfriend, pushed to have a better look.

It was, as usual, the fight involved-and caused- by Trent. He was always boastful and picking a fight, confident of the back-up of his friends who trailed along behind him at all times. Today he had chosen to bully the new girl, Misery, as Mikaela could see; she was surrounded by a gang of boys- four in total. Mikaela couldn't help but click her tongue in disdain towards Trent: why did he always have to bully someone or gang-bash him or her? She butted people, attempting to pull out of the crowd to call the teacher. But then Sam grabbed her arm again, stopping her.

"What?" she turned, annoyed, "There's a line between just a friendly argument and a gang fight where a defenseless girl may be beaten to a pulp! Trent's ruthless even when it comes to girls! Jesus, Sam, what's wrong with you?"

"Wait," he said, pointing at Misery, "I don't think she's just a defenseless girl who'll be beaten to a pulp."

Mikaela stopped and looked. The girl's face wasn't entirely visible, but it was completely expressionless, unshaken at the threats and the approaching boys who were at least a head taller than her. Mikaela was even more surprised when Misery easily suppressed the first attacker, who literally pounced on her, by taking a step back and sharply thwacking the side of his neck with her hand, which was as straight as a knife, then delivering a punch to his solar plexus. He cringed in pain, and she smashed her hand down onto his back, this time making him fall.

"Well. Come on if you want to have a go on me as well." She said all too softly, motioning the bullies to approach her. They hesitated, but Trent, who was standing behind them, pressed them to do as he ordered. Not at all eager, the three bullies all attacked Misery at once.

"That's not fair!" Mikaela cried out, but it was muffled in the wild shouts of the onlookers.

Scanning the attackers in that briefest moment, Misery charged directly into the bully in the middle, grabbing his extended arm and wrist, and using the law of leverage, flipped him over. With a thud, he crashed into the ground. He could have stood up and faced her again, but he chose not to. He stumbled up, then quickly ran away as Misery confronted the other bullies in the pretty same manner. She kicked the third one on the knee lightly, making his legs buckle, grabbed him and threw him over. She turned towards the last remaining one, but he had already run away, despite the angry howls from Trent. Stepping over the sprawled bully-who soon got up and scrambled away- Misery walked towards Trent. He gulped. The whole crowd fell silent as they watched the un-triumphant victor.

She just simply ignored his presence, and walked past him.

His relief of not getting beaten up must have been bigger than that of anger at not being acknowledged, because he almost sank to his knees. The students dispersed soon after, but great groups gathered around Misery, although she did not seem to appreciate the attention.

"Wow," Said Sam, after they had come back to the classroom for the next lesson, "wow. That was… amazing. How can she do that?"

"If you're so curious, why don't you go and ask her yourself?" said Mikaela tartly. She was surprised as the people were; who could have guessed that a quiet and gloomy girl who rarely spoke more than two words was such a fighter? She turned her head to look at the girls grouped around Misery.

"Where did you learn that?" a girl asked. Misery didn't answer, but then again, she couldn't have answered the myriads of questions that were pouring from all sides at the same time.

"How long have you been learning the martial arts? You _do_ martial arts, right?" a south-African girl by the name of Yvonne asked her. Misery nodded, but did not answer the first question.

"What martial arts do you do?" Yvonne asked again, patiently.

"Aikido. Karate. And few others." Mumbled Misery, and the girls murmured appreciatively. While the girls were quiet for a moment, Misery took the chance and quickly departed from the classroom again, although the bell was about to go any minute.

* * *

Martial arts- I've always wanted to learn one, so I gave Misery my wish-of-life and made her an exceptional fighter. I was always into those kinds of action stuff. Hehe. Oh, and Happy Easter, dear readers! Please leave some reviews!


	3. Party 1: Surprises

Cookies for all the kind reviewers; thank you very much! (LOL) I've drawn the picture of Jazz and Lizzy from TSW and put it up at so if interested, go and type in 'jazz and lizzy'. May be I'll draw Misery and Optimus. May be… only if I'd want to make all your eyes rot because I SUCK AT DRAWING. (Evil grin)

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN TRANSFORMERS. I ONLY OWN THE PLOT AND THE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS OF THIS FANFIC.**

* * *

On that very weekend, there was a barbeque party at the Lennox's. Sam and Mikaela, who were naturally invited as comrades of the battle in the city a year before, arrived with Bumblebee. As they got off Bumblebee, they could see the familiar semi-truck, H2 Hummer and GMC Topkick standing outside. That meant their holographic forms were activated; which was no wonder as they wouldn't have fit into the residence. Sarah Lennox, with baby Annabelle in her arms, ran out to greet them.

"Mikaela, Sam!" she smiled warmly, "How are you? The weather's hot, isn't it?"

"It is; it's good to see you, Mrs. Lennox." Mikaela smiled too. The woman was delicate yet refined, and she was a pleasant company to anyone. Annabelle squealed delightfully and reached towards Mikaela. They all laughed.

"Where's everybody?" asked Sam, looking around.

"In the backyard. Everyone's waiting for the hero to arrive." She smiled at Sam, who scratched his head a little bashfully.

There was a mechanical buzzing, and they turned to see the hologram of Bumblebee, formed right next to the car: a young man, who was at the verge of escaping his adolescence. He had vivid yellow hair with two black streaks, and big, cheerful blue eyes.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Lennox," he said, smiling and raising a hand. Sarah smiled back. Sam and Mikaela stared at him open-mouthed for a moment-not having seen his hologram many times before and unused to it- then quickly walked to the party place.

"Sam!" Will cheerfully waved while roasting sausages and steak. The Autobots in the yard turned their heads to see who had arrived. Sam grinned and waved at them as well. Mikaela, who had followed him behind, goggled her eyes.

"You know, no matter how many times I see you guys, I'll never get used to your holograms." She sighed. There was a faint blush on her face which made Sam crinkle his eyebrows jealously. However, the Autobots themselves didn't seem to understand her; except for Ratchet, who chuckled lightly.

"Well, isn't it interesting? We can't quite understand the human esthetic sense, but every human who casts eyes on us seem fascinated by our holograms. Do these holograms look good in your point of views?" Ratchet seemed amused. He crossed his arms and put a thumb and an index finger to his chin thoughtfully.

"Not just _good_, you guys would be, like, the love-targets of every girls in Tranquility!" said Mikaela. Ratchet raised his eyebrows, but Ironhide snorted and Optimus merely glanced at the sky. Bumblebee laughed. Frustrated at the mechs not really appreciating her explanation, she turned to Sarah and Annabelle and started to play with the little child while her mother watched them, laughing.

"Hey Captain," Sam cheerfully shook hands with Will, who grinned broadly, "how've you and your family been?"

"Good, good," he said, looking at his wife and child, then turned towards Sam, "hey, I've got someone I want to introduce to you guys." He spoke to everyone, and they all raised their heads. Sarah looked up while supporting Annabelle to stand up.

"It's our nieces," said Sarah, taking her daughter in her arms, "they came here only a few weeks ago."

"Your nieces?" beamed Mikaela, "I'd sure like to meet them."

"Ah, they're not very… eager to meet strangers," said Sarah, "but they're nice enough once you get to know them; especially May. She's a very lovely girl, seven years old. She's quite a playmate for Annie." She kissed Annabelle's cheek lightly, making the child giggle. Holding the child, she walked into the house and shouted: "May! Felicity! Won't you come down and meet our guests?"

After a moment, two girls appeared at the doorway to the backyard. Sam and Mikaela's jaws dropped when they saw a familiar girl with black hair and gloomy atmosphere.

"YOU?!" exclaimed Mikaela and Sam at the same time, surprising the Lennox couple.

"You were Will and Sarah's _niece_?" Sam looked baffled; how could this glum, cheerless girl be a 

relative of one of the brightest family he knew? Mikaela finally realized who Misery had reminded her of: Sarah Lennox. Although Sarah's features were smoother and gentler, her niece looked more edgy, somewhat more aggressive. Nevertheless, they shared a lot of similarity in contours and outlines. Unflinching at their surprises, she silently returned their astonished looks.

"How do you know each other? Oh, at school; right?" said Sarah.

"Yeah. She's in our class." said Sam, the amazed look slowly disappearing from his face.

"Well, that's good. I hope you guys will be great friends." Smiled Sarah. Sam and Mikaela shared a momentary incredulous look between them; they weren't so sure of it.

Misery was holding a hand of a smaller girl with thick, curly brown hair and doe-like blue eyes. She looked confused, even fearful at the sight of so many strangers, and clung to her sister tightly. Misery contrasted to every bit of her younger sister: whereas May was wearing a dress with cute strawberry patterns, Misery was wearing a black long-sleeved shirt and loose black trousers. Her eyes scanned the strangers carefully, one by one. Her unblinking eyes stopped momentarily on Optimus, Bumblebee, Ironhide and Ratchet. Grown uneasy of the uncomfortable silence, Sarah stepped in to introduce them properly.

"Everyone, this is Felicity and May O'Neil," she gestured towards the sisters, "they're from Connecticut, and they'll be staying with us."

"Nice to meet you," said Mikaela, stretching a hand towards May, who looked at her sister then Mikaela, and timidly reached out a tiny hand to shake Mikaela's.

"She is a niece of yours?" asked Ratchet to Will, throwing a doubtful glance towards silent Misery and Sarah.

"Yeah. Well, not from my side; she's from Sarah's. Sarah's sister lived in Connecticut." Explained Will. Ratchet nodded, accepting it. Meanwhile, Sarah was introducing Misery to the Autobots now.

"… these are our family friends: Ratchet, Ironhide, Bumblebee, and Mr. Optimus Prime." Sarah indicated each Autobots as she spoke. Misery's eyes gazed at each one of them. Sarah sighed slightly.

"Felicity, can't you at least greet them?"

"Aunt Sarah," said Misery, opening her mouth for the first time, "Please, I told you not to call me 

by that name; it's Misery."

"I am **not** calling you by that," said Sarah sternly, "why are you denying the name your mother and father gave you? And worse, why 'misery'? Why do you have to call yourself that?"

Misery didn't answer. She just simply stared at Sarah until she sighed and walked away. Her eyes carefully studied the mechs, but not to the point of rudeness. Without a word, she turned away and sat down on the chair.

"Not very friendly, is she?" said Bumblebee, "I mean, she doesn't seem too happy to see us." Ironhide shrugged, not caring, and Ratchet made a thoughtful expression again. Optimus observed her very carefully; it was interesting how she darkened the space around her and stood alienated from all the brightness; how she managed to cut herself off from other people. It was not good, of course, but it was funny how such a young and ordinary human could do it. He courageously approached her.

"Good afternoon," he said, dipping his head lightly. Her eyes darted to him, looking at him. He settled down onto the chair in front of her.

"I'm Optimus Prime, as Mrs. Lennox had introduced. Your name is Felicity O'Neil, right?" he asked.

"Misery." She corrected him, "Don't call me by that name; it's disgusting."

Her answer startled Optimus slightly: according to his log of study of humans and data on them, humans were often very proud of their names and thus their heritages from their families and parents. Why was this one not? She seemed irritated, almost feeling aggravated at being called Felicity.

"Alright, then; Misery," he nodded, "how old are you, may I ask?"

"Eighteen. Same as them." she pointed at Sam and Mikaela with her chin. So he was right; she _was_ young, yet so matured- may be in a different way, though.

"Why do you call yourself Misery?" he asked out of genuine curiosity; to his surprise, she faintly smiled.

"I don't think your name's quite ordinary either," she said, "'Optimus Prime'? Is it really your real name?"

"As a matter of fact, yes, it is," he said, slightly displeased and taken aback that she'd counter-attacked, "you haven't answered my question."

"Why do I have to answer to you?" she asked, the smile disappearing. She was tough; he'd give her that.

"It is a question asked just purely out of curiosity." Said Optimus.

"Curiosity kills a cat." Said Misery tartly. Optimus was about to retaliate when May ran up to Misery, excitedly tugging her sister's sleeve.

"Fel, Fel, comm'on! Jellybean came over again; don't you wanna see him?" the little girl's eyes twinkled, and Optimus was again surprised, when he saw Misery actually laugh- yes, _laugh_- and sweep her black hair away from her face, have her hand held by the breathlessly delighted girl and be tugged away. Her face, uncovered, would have been considered peculiarly beautiful in human esthetic view-point. Her skin was almost bloodlessly pale, but it was not the sort of repulsive-pale; rather, it was as if she had been soaking in moonbeam. She had feline-like eyes, which were black. Her nose was curved slightly, and her lips were thin. Her eyes were lined smoky-black, making her look tired and cold at the same time.

As if afraid he would've seen her laugh, she quickly shut her mouth tight and followed her sister. They patted and stroked Jellybean-he soon discovered that it was a name of a cat which belonged to a neighbor and came over often- while the rest idly talked and laughed. It was a peaceful afternoon. Optimus leaned on the back of the chair, staring at the sky.

Jellybean, grown tired of being stroked by young children, meowed and ran, jumping onto Optimus' lap, startling him. He almost jumped, which would have made his soldiers and humans laugh harder. The cat meowed again.

"Jellybean!" cried May, running up to him and reaching to have the cat once again in her arms. The cat rubbed its head against Optimus, which made him perplexed. Bumblebee burst out laughing, while Ironhide and Ratchet snickered.

"Fel," the child sadly turned towards Misery, "Jellybean won't let me touch him."

"That's because he's tired and doesn't want to be patted anymore," Said Misery, caressing May's hair, "Cats get tired easily."

May nodded, but kept glancing towards the cat regrettably. Optimus eyed the cat, completely lost. The cat seemed to like him; or rather, his hologram. It was now comfortably settled on his lap, curling its body round and resting.

"Why is this creature doing this?" he asked to no one in particular.

"Obviously he's finding you a very comfortable pillow." Said Misery, with a hint of amusement in her voice. At her answer, everybody in the backyard laughed out loud.

"Could you get this cat off me, if you don't mind?" he asked Misery, quite helpless.

"Certainly." She gently coaxed Jellybean, holding the cat in her arms and letting it go on the ground. Afraid the cat might come back and make him its pillow again, he stood up. Bumblebee, with difficulty, stifled a laugh.

"I wish you could see your face when that cat sat on you," he could barely speak audibly, "I should've recorded it."

"It was not funny." Optimus responded flatly, which made Bumblebee even more difficult to muffle the laughter; the young soldier could be quite immature at some times. Optimus sighed.

"Can I go back inside the house now?" Meanwhile, Misery was asking her aunt. Sarah looked at Will, who shrugged. Sighing once again, Sarah nodded. Without another word, Misery swiftly passed Optimus and returned to the house, shutting the glass sliding door behind her.

"What's her problem?" asked Mikaela, after a moment of silence.

"I don't know; she doesn't like to be around other people other than her sister." Said Sarah. Optimus, hearing Sarah's words, looked at the door which she had disappeared through.

'Humans are indeed interesting…' he emptily thought as the sky above them turned shady orange.

* * *

This chapter is ABSOLUTELY MUDDLED because I wrote it during I was like, half-asleep. Hehe. Why does Optimus remind me of Ryuk from Deathnote? (sweats) Hopefully, if you liked it, then please leave some reviews! Cheers!


	4. Party 2: Questions

Wow, a _lot_ of reviews! **Thank you very much**! Your reviews are like sugar to me- they make me feel high! (LOL) I'll be gone away for few days for the church camp, from Friday to Sunday. Oh, and I've uploaded a picture of Misery- just a sketch, to give people the basic idea of what she looks like. My nickname at Deviantart is Arumanis. Cheers!

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN TRANSFORMERS. I ONLY OWN THE PLOT AND THE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS OF THIS FANFIC.**

* * *

The party continued without Misery. As the food was served and they chattered, a faint sound of music began to be heard from inside the house. They stopped in the midst of the meal. The music was clearer when all the extra noises stopped; it was a sound of a piano. Confused, Sam and Mikaela faced Will questioningly.

"Oh. It's Felicity," said Will, shrugging and reaching for a cup of water, "she's a really good player, though she doesn't let it show. I've only heard her once or twice. She often plays when she's alone, or for kids, though." He glanced at May and Annabelle. Convinced, the young couple made an approving sound and turned their faces in the direction of the house. The musical notes flooded like droplets of water on the spider-web, tinkling and grand at the same time.

"She's definitely talented." Said Ratchet, leaning against the back of the chair and listening to the distant music. Optimus couldn't help but agree with his chief medical officer. The music was delicate and beautiful, yet strong and forceful at the same time. It was subtly balanced, not a single note was missed or wrong. It was a melancholy song, making the hearts and sparks throb oddly. When the song ended, he felt his spark aching, reminded of his lost home planet and dead friends and comrades. Silently, he stood up, and entered the house. Bumblebee raised a questioning eyebrow, but understood when he saw Optimus' eyes.

As he climbed the stairs, the music grew louder and louder. He made as little noise as possible, afraid that the music would stop at any time. When he reached the end of the staircase, he could see the back of the girl turned against him, absolutely absorbed into the instrument. Her fingers didn't just simply play, but _roamed_ on the keyboard, frantically moving up and down, making him dizzy as he watched her fingers. She didn't even seem to notice him although he was right behind her. Her whole body seemed to move rhythmically, following the tune. It was amazing that the tips of her fingers didn't rip and blood gushed out or that the keyboards didn't break down and the piano didn't collapse, because she was playing so hardly and intensely.

The piece finished with a gigantic boom, and Misery sighed lightly. A clapping was heard from behind her, and she immediately turned back, so swiftly that she made Optimus think her body had just snapped the other way around. She _was_ startled at his sudden appearance, he could see that.

"You are a wonderful player." Said Optimus.

"What do you want?" she demanded not too loudly, but angrily. Her eyes flashed dangerously at him.

"I only wanted to hear your performance from a closer distance," he said, startled at her aggression, "I am sorry if I surprised you."

Misery stared at him for a moment, then turned around towards the piano, "I don't like people snooping around at other people's privacies; especially mine."

So he'd heard: humans were very protective of their private matters. But this female seemed to be particularly defensive of her privacy.

Ignoring his presence behind her, she began to play another song. It was a waltz, slow and mournful. Optimus hadn't heard much of human music, but this one was clearly the one that grasped his spark. After the song ended, she stood up and closed the piano.

"That song… what is it called?" he asked.

"It's Chopin's waltz in B minor; Op. 69, no. 2," she answered, "Haven't you heard it before?"

He shook his head. She pushed the stool under the piano, before turning to face him.

"Is there anything else you want from me?" she asked, looking into his eyes. It was then he realized that he was still standing behind where she had been playing.

"Oh. Um, well… how long do you have to learn piano in order to play the Waltz?" he blurted out; he didn't know what to say, so he just spoke out the question that spontaneously came to his spark.

"I don't know. May be for about a year?" she shrugged.

"How long have you been playing piano?" he asked. Her eyes flashed dangerously again; he flinched slightly, but she gave him an answer nonetheless.

"Since I was six." She said so silently, he almost didn't hear her. Her head was lowered a little, and when she raised it, he saw the pain in her eyes. And something else too; what was it? Anger? Exasperation? But he recognized it when he saw it: nostalgia. It was so familiar, yet so hauntingly real to him as well. For a moment, he stared into her black eyes, and she didn't move, but stare him back.

Pounding, yet light footsteps were heard, and she quickly turned her face away. The spell broke. He turned to see May, and Sarah with Annabelle in her arms. Sarah raised an eyebrow when she saw him there, but said nothing. Misery smiled when May ran up to her and hugged her knees.

"Fel, can you play my favorite song? Please? Please?" the child begged, jumping up and down. Misery, still smiling, smoothed May's hair. Without another word, she pulled out the stool again, sat on it, and opened the lid. May plunked herself next to her sister, swing her feet. She eagerly waited for Misery. The white hands slowly ascended to the top C's, and abruptly, she began to play ragtime, so fast-paced and delightful that it was obvious why May loved it. May clapped, a big smile lighting the small face.

Impressed-and surprised as well-, Optimus threw a glance at Sarah. The corners of her mouth quickly went up, giving him a faint smile as if asking him to understand. But he couldn't. Misery provided him with so many questions and mysteries about humans, but at the same time, she kept all the hints and keys and the ultimate answers in her heart. He wanted to find these answers no matter what, but there were many walls on the way.

He awoke from his thoughts when Misery ended the song quite dramatically, slowing down all of a sudden and ending with another loud boom. May giggled, applauding happily. Sarah clapped as well, albeit with some difficulty because she was holding Annabelle. However, the baby, surprised at the loud noise and clapping, began to cry. Sarah's expression immediately changed and she quickly returned to the yard, soothing her daughter. May jumped down from the stool, saw Optimus and smiled at him.

"Isn't she great?" she boasted, puffing her chest out and holding her nose up high.

"Yes," Optimus said slowly, eyeing the teenager tidying the piano again, "she _is_ talented."

"My sister even won the competition," May went on, "at the Connecticut; she was the best player in the whole-"

"May," Misery cut in, trying to keep her voice even, "what did I tell you about **that**?"

May closed her mouth at once. Curious, Optimus silently urged May to answer, but she shook her head, refusing to say anything any farther. Quickly, she ran away, running down the stairs.

"I'm sorry if she bothered you," said Misery, but there was no hint of sorriness in her tone, "May's a lovely child, but sometimes she can get… over-friendly."

_Over-friendly?_ "It's fine," he answered, "actually, I think your sister is a charming girl."

"She is." She nodded. There was a period of silence between them, Optimus with so many jumbled questions in his mind and she emptily gazing at nothing. She uncomfortably glanced at Optimus- then he became aware that he was staring at her unconsciously. "Do you have something you want to say to me?" she asked, frowning.

"What? Oh, no, I don't. I'm sorry." He apologized quickly. He didn't know how to react to this girl. Humans were indeed eccentric and interesting species, but so far Misery was the most unusual case of human he had seen. He wanted to find out more about her, why she was indifferent and at times, even rude to others, why she behaved so conspicuously. He wanted answers to his questions.

Before he could say anything else, she swept past him, calmly walking down the stairs. Not a sound was made as she disappeared, but he thought that somehow her footsteps were weighed down and heavy.

* * *

This chapter is weeeeeird as well… I don't know. May be I should learn more about socializing and psychology- robot psychology, if possible. (LOL) Alright, cheers!


	5. The accident

Yay! Again, lots of reviews- I am one happy author! (squeals) A batch of internet/imaginary cookies for my readers- thank you, as always!

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN TRANSFORMERS. I ONLY OWN THE PLOT AND THE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS OF THIS FANFIC.**

* * *

"Shit," I swore under my breath. The asphalt was harder than I'd imagined, it felt like a floor of diamond. The sky, the walls, even the air was pitch-black. No lights shone. The street-lights must have died ages ago. I swore again, this time louder.

But deep down, I doubted that anyone would find me here.

* * *

_Thirty minutes ago-_

Misery carefully made her way down the road towards a nearby supermarket to buy some milk and jellies for her sister. It was unsafe, she knew, to be out at this hour of the night in this place, but it couldn't be helped; her sister would be disappointed if she found out her favorite snacks had ran out, and Misery couldn't bear to see the child in even a tiny and trifle distress such as she would suffer from this. She spoiled May, but again, it couldn't be helped. She loved her sister, the only thing she had left in this world, with every cell and fiber of her being. She was the only thing that reminded her of the past happiness, and what she was before she became what she was now. May was the reason why Misery lived. Misery didn't want to be parted from her sister, not even for a second, but it was more dangerous out here than staying at home. So she'd left her sister at the Lennox's house, and went out without telling her uncle and aunt; in fact, she never told them whenever she went out.

She turned around a corner, towards the alley. It was a shortcut. There was a road between her and the shortcut, and carefully, Misery glanced right and left for any sign of the cars. There was one, but it would take few seconds to cross the path with her; so being sure that it would be safe, Misery ran for the other side.

Suddenly, the car picked up speed, swerving dangerously, closing up to her in one second; its tires screeched madly as the car slowed down immediately. But though it had slowed down, the remnant of the speed was still great and it collided against Misery, who had already prepared to run but was one step too late. Flung from the impact, she crashed into the cement wall of the alley.

She gasped for air; the car had bumped into her midsection, and she couldn't breathe properly. It felt as if the ribs had been crushed to her lungs, flattening them. She coughed. She lifted a hand and touched the wound. It came away bloody. It was blood as well that came out from her mouth. _Shit_, she cursed in her mind.

"What the-?" the door of the driver's seat opened, and a man staggered out; he was drunk. Heavily. He swayed and leaned against his car for support. His eyes swirled and unfocused, he jerked his head to see what he had hit.

"Just another fucking dog or a cat…" Misery could hear the bastard mutter, and if she could have stood up, she would have done so and give him the bash of his life. However, she couldn't move because of the pain in her body. The drunkard approached her, and his eyes widened in shock and horror when he saw what he had actually hit: a teenager, bleeding and slumped against the wall.

"Oh my god," he murmured, stepping back hesitantly towards the car, before getting into it as quickly as he could. He slammed the door shut, and ran away from the spot, his tires screeching again and echoes spreading out towards the dark town.

"Son of a bitch." Misery muttered to herself, cursing the man, struggling to get up somehow. Her legs moved, yes, but she couldn't take the intense pain in her ribs which spiked her every time she tried to make a movement. She cried out in agony when she tried to lift herself up with her arms. The pressure when she concentrated her strength punched the injured midsection, and she sagged against the wall again. She would die from excessive blood loss if no one came to help her. The fear, which hadn't occurred to her in a very long time, gripped her heart; the first thing that came to her mind was May. If she died, May would be left alone without a family. She was sure the Lennox's would take a good care of the child, but then again, they had a child of their own and being as attentive as they were, May wouldn't be able to escape the feeling of being an outsider. All kinds of thoughts flashed past Misery's brain. She didn't want May to be like her; a dark, shadowed thing, misshapen and mistrustful. She had put in so much effort to shield her sister from all the nastiness of life, although she couldn't block out everything. Without her, May would be deserted to this world. She couldn't let that happen. She couldn't die here.

* * *

More blood came out as I opened my mouth to scream out for help. The taste was unfamiliar and familiar at the same time; I knew what it tasted like, but I hadn't felt it in long, long time.

I felt cold, probably from the blood loss. The ribs must have been fractured or something, I had no idea, but I needed help. **Now**. But there was not a single car driving past this blasted street. I couldn't say anything aloud because even breathing hurt like hell. Was this the place where I'd die? Had I struggled, fought, lived so hard so I could just die _here_? It made no sense, but most of the things in this world didn't make sense.

I laughed, bitter.

* * *

Will jerked his head up when he heard the crying. He thought it was Annabelle at first, but after listening to it more carefully, he realized that the sob was coming from upstairs, where May and Misery's room was. He was about to climb up the stairs when May practically jumped down three to four stairs at a time, running into his startled arms.

"Whoa, whoa, May. What's wrong? Did you have a bad dream?" he asked; it happened sometimes to the little girl. But then again, something was amiss; if she _did_ have a bad dream, her sister would have calmed her down and she would have run all the way down here. Though she seemed heartless and cold, Misery loved May to her death. He tilted his head, trying to understand.

"Uncle Will," the girl managed to say, her face wet from tears, "Fel's not come back."

"What do you mean? Did Felicity go out?" he asked. May nodded. He had heard the front door open and close silently about thirty to forty minutes ago, but didn't think big deal of it. She must have gone out then. Why was May looking scared out of her wits?

"Fel's g-gone, to, to buy me treats- it only takes her t-ten minutes…" the girl sniffled, "she's late; I'm wo-worried, Uncle Will. I'm scared."

Will slowly realized what had happened, his brain flaring in alarm: _something had happened to the girl, _his instinct, trained and sharpened by military training and vocation, told him: _must find her._

"May, I want you to go upstairs and wait for your sister to come back, okay?" said Will, putting his hands on the child's shoulders. She nodded, and scrambled off, still sniffling. As soon as she was out of sight, Will dashed to Ironhide, who was parked just outside the house. He lightly hit the hood, before Ironhide's engine growled to life.

"What is it, Captain Lennox?" the feisty weapon-specialist asked through his audio-link, annoyed at having awakened at such late hours. However, when he saw the seriousness in the man's face, he composed himself.

"I need your help, Ironhide," he said, "by any chance, did you see Felicity leave the house?"

"Huh? You mean that niece of yours?" Will nodded, and Ironhide thought of it for a moment before answering, "Yah, I think I did. Exactly forty-six minutes ago, the female left the house and headed for the street. Why?"

"She hasn't come back yet," said Will, "and it only takes ten minutes to walk to the nearest supermarket. Something must have happened to her."

"Is she in need of reinforcement?" Ironhide questioned, not quite understanding.

"I doubt it, but I bet she needs help." Will opened the door to the driver's seat and climbed in. The engines roared silently as the GMC Topkick raced to the site.

* * *

Will got off from Ironhide, carefully making his way down the street to the supermarket. There was no one in the street; it was eerily empty. Not even a car or a passer-by, not even a stray-cat, was visible. He checked the road and the closed shops, around the corners. Nothing. Then, a way into the alley came to his view; it was almost hidden by variety of buildings, but it was still there. He peered into the alley. He couldn't see anything at first, the night being so lightless. But as he squinted at and looked closer, he saw a silhouette of something. He gave a sign to Ironhide to come nearer and flash the headlight. The mech did as he was asked, and in the next moment, they were both horrified to see what was in front of them.

"Jesus Christ." "Primus." Said Ironhide and Will at the same time. There was Misery, slouched against the wall, blood from her injuries still steadily spreading across the ground. Her eyes were half-closed, her pale skin more bloodless than ever. She didn't react to the bright light that shined on her; she had lost her consciousness. Will immediately ran to his niece, cradling her and checking her pulse. It was faint now, and her breathing was uneven, shallow, and ever-so-fearfully wavering.

"Ironhide, help me with her." He said, not afraid that he couldn't lift her but he would worsen her injuries. Ironhide's holo-form appeared, a tall and muscular man, and hurried to assist Will. Taking care, they lifted the limp body into the car. Will was about to say "to the hospital" when the Autobot cut him off by speaking first.

"Ratchet can help; the human doctors wouldn't be able to help her quick enough." Said Ironhide, after he had scanned the girl, "three ribs broken, two fractured. Her lungs are damaged as well. She also has minor bruises and scratches, mainly on her midsection."

"Then let's go. Hurry!" before Will could quite finish, Ironhide was already accelerating, heading towards the Autobot base.

* * *

Wow. It's a big one I think… she got rammed by a car! Personally, I've never been involved in a car accident, but I can't imagine being in one; wouldn't it hurt terribly?

Oh, and by the way… I turn seventeen (or eighteen in my home country) TOMORROW! GO ME!! (dances around) **LEAVE SOME REVIEWS PLEASE, PEOPLE**!


	6. Tears and decisions

TWELVE REVIEWS!! Oh my! (faints) I'm so happy- thank you, thank you, **thank you**!

Yup, Misery was run over by the drunken bastard in last part. She's okay, she ain't dead… I think. (evil laugh) Oh, and I had a really small, but nice birthday party on April Fool's Day. Thanks for everyone who congratulated me.

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN TRANSFORMERS. I ONLY OWN THE PLOT AND THE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS OF THIS FANFIC.**

* * *

The first thing Misery noticed was the light shining over her closed eyelids. Slowly, she felt herself alive, warm and breathing. The pain struck her the moment she regained her consciousness, especially in her ribs. She could hear tidbits of conversations shared not so far from her.

"… not too severe… … need…. rest." The male voice was speaking. The sentences were broken up in her ears, and she could only pick up few words. Misery opened her eyes, then just as quickly, she closed them again. The place was so fraggin' _bright_, she couldn't keep her eyes disclosed. Or was it just that her eyes needed time to get used to the illumination? Where was she, most important of all?

Oh yes, she then remembered. The fucking bastard yesterday night- the impact of the car crashing into her, and the excruciating pain, the taste of blood in her mouth… she remembered every single detail of it. Replaying the scene in her mind, she felt a wave of fury; she wanted nothing more than to stand up, march out of here, catch the drunkard and just smash his good-for-nothing drunken head into a-

"Ah… … awake?" the words were still disconnected, but she could see a shadow approaching her through slightly open eyes. _I must be in a hospital_, she thought, _so someone _did_ find me_. She was glad, but at the same time, felt strangely regrettable; _you could have just left this world for all you care_, whispered the voice in her head. She gritted her teeth in effort to make the voice shut up.

Misery started to get up, but before she could even move up a centimeter, a steady hand pushed her back gently. Wincing at the light, she lifted her eyelids.

She could see a doctor-he _was_ a doctor, right?- holding her down. She couldn't see his face because of the backlight, but he had slightly long hair and wore a white coat. Her eyes moved, scanning the environment; she could see other silhouettes of two people, standing right behind the doctor. When they heard that she was awake, they hurried to the side of her bed. They were her aunt and uncle, both sighing in relief when they saw she was awake.

"Felicity! Thank god, are you alright?" asked Sarah, her eyes red and moist. Misery could only give the smallest nod. Will's face was still white, but he smiled reluctantly when he saw she was awake. Getting used to the light, Misery studied the environment around her; the first thing she noticed was that she was _not_ in the hospital, but in some kind of warehouse, or an abandoned building. She frowned; where the hell **was** she? Then she cast her eyes down and saw she was not wearing her usual black long-shirt and trousers, but some kind of white papery cloth, like some patients at the _proper_ hospital wore. Her brain boiled at the thought that someone had stripped her and changed her cloth-probably seeing what was underneath the fabric in the process- though it was to treat her wounds. She could feel bandage wrapped around her midriff, also some on her bruises. Misery was about to ask some questions when her aunt suddenly started to rant, to her surprise.

"**FELICITY O'NEIL!**" she shouted, and Will and Misery stared at her, "What the _hell_ did you have in your mind, to wander off so late in the night!? It was _almost midnight_, for heaven's sake! It's not safe, even for a grown girl like you- no, it's more dangerous for a grown girl like you to hang around so late! I expected you to behave better, I thought I could trust you with your own well-being!"

"Sarah, Sarah, calm down. Felicity's still-" started Will, but he was quickly shushed at once by his ferocious wife.

"I was worried sick- not just me, but your uncle and your sister and practically everyone! _What would have your parents thought!? _They left me the duty to take good care of you, and I will- if only you would let me! Gosh, Felicity, it's not just _this_, this going-out-late-at-night thing, but the whole _business_! You don't talk to anyone but May, you call yourself by that dreadful name Misery, and you'd never tell what'd exactly happened at Connecticut with your foster parents, only that they had to send you away! Why won't you _talk_, Felicity? Why do you have to isolate yourself so much, even from your own family?" Sarah ended up in a fit of uncontrollably rising sob, her shoulders shaking and covering her face with her hands. Will wrapped his arms around his wife, trying to calm his wife but in vain. Nervously, he glanced at Misery, who was staring at nothing blankly. Her eyes, again behind her hair draped around her face, were pointless and empty.

"Now, now, Mrs. Lennox," said the doctor, picking the precise moment to cut into, "Miss O'Neil's a patient; though she's been treated, she needs the utmost rest and peace." He turned to Misery, eyeing her. She somehow thought that he was the one who'd changed her clothes and treated her; she half-looked, half-glared at him; he didn't seem to notice. Now she could see it, he had greenish-yellow hair-_funny hair color for a doctor_, she thought- and strict-looking glasses. He had stern and professional face, and she could see he did best in what he did. He checked the tube connected to her forearm, saw she looked healthy enough and nodded approvingly. She asked him the first question that came to her mind.

"Where am I?"

The doctor stared at her for a moment before answering it, "I'm sorry. It's classified," he shrugged, and Misery blinked, "it's a government facility; your uncle was able to bring you here because of his connection to the military and such. But don't worry; you're being taken an excellent care of."

Misery asked the second question. "Are you the doctor who treated me?"

"Not quite; I'm more of an army medical-officer, but yes, I'm also a doctor, you could say. And I _did_ take care of your injuries; nasty, they were. Three ribs broken, two fractured, also complete with bruises and cuts. Also your broken ribs scratched your lungs-they didn't pierce them, luckily- so don't do anything rash. But you'll survive. You just need plenty of rests and not so much excitement or movement. That means you won't be able to escape your bed for some time," the doctor smiled, "and I think we've met before."

Misery was about to say 'what are you talking about', when she slowly realized that he was one of the guys who'd been introduced to her at the barbecue party few weeks ago. What was his name? She struggled to remember.

"My name is Ratchet," he said, sensing her struggle, "_Doctor_ Ratchet, if it assures you better." Misery smiled very faintly at his sense of humor.

"It isn't my business to ask the patient every single tiny detail on accident such as why she went out so late at night," he continued, "but perhaps you could just explain it to your guardians; they were really worried." He gestured at the couple.

Mumbling, Misery explained the whole thing to her uncle and aunt; she'd gone out to buy things for May, but the drunk driver practically drove _into_ her, leaving her for dead in the alley. Will clenched his fists in anger, and Sarah had calmed down, but her stares were strong.

"From now on, no more sneaking-out-late-at-night thing for you, young lady," said Sarah, her eyes burning into Misery's. Misery nodded lamely, not having or wanting to say anything.

"How's May?" Misery asked, the slight alarm running into her voice.

"She's at home. She was the one who told me that you went missing," said Will, "she was crying and scared out of her wits, afraid something went wrong with you; damn right she was. If it wasn't for May, I wouldn't have even realized you were gone until next morning."

Misery thought over what he'd said; she'd made May and the Lennox's worry. She felt guilty; she hadn't meant to. She sheepishly turned her gaze away, when she heard footsteps. Misery turned to see another newly-arrived man, whom she recognized easily this time; he was the one who had tried to talk to her so many times last time she saw him. He had blue hair, cobalt eyes and was wearing blue jacket with red flame-design on it. She saw that he was very tall, about 8' 4", and was well-built. Was he other military personnel who worked with her uncle? She tilted her head a little.

"You're awake," he said, and Misery nodded curtly, "Miss O'Neil, I must speak with you about something."

"Go ahead." Said Misery. His face was serious.

"At forty-seven past eleven yesterday night, you left the Lennox's residence; yes?" she nodded, "Why, may I ask?"

"Is this some kind of repetitive twenty-question thingy?" Misery asked to no one in particular, her voice monotonous. She looked at Will and Sarah. "Do I _have_ to answer?"

"Do as he says, Felicity." Said Will. Misery sighed, then faced the man again.

"I went to buy some stuff for my sister."

"At forty-seven minutes past eleven?" he asked doubtfully.

"Yeah. Is it a problem?"

"It is, in fact, Miss O'Neil, a very serious problem," he said, "your uncle and aunt are in charge of your welfare now, and you should not put yourself into a trouble such as this one. It was needless."

"What have _you_ got to do with this? It's not your problem; it's between my uncle and aunt and me." Misery counteracted, her tone slashing like a whip. Her voice was not quiet or dull anymore, but starting to get harsh and sharp.

"Felicity!" Sarah was about to scold her when the man raised a hand, stopping her.

"I am, in fact, involved in this. Your uncle, as you know, is an important member of the military forces and he was comprised in a number of significant operations. Therefore, his family and residence is under protection. Because now you are a member of Lennox family, _you_ are under the protection as well. You must not endanger yourself as you are under the government's concern." He explained. Misery rolled her eyes, half-following and half-dragged along the explanation. She thought on this, chewing her lower lip. Then she raised her head to meet their gazes.

"There's one thing I've got to tell you," she said, "I'm not gonna be living with Uncle and Aunt anymore." There was a gasp from Sarah.

"Sorry to just burst the bubble all of a sudden, but I've actually rented a place. With the money left by Mum and Dad. It's a nice, small place, big enough and clean enough. I'm gonna leave and move there," she looked at Sarah and Will, who were staring at her in horror, "I don't want to be a burden to you; you've already got enough in your hands-"

Misery couldn't quite finish her sentence as Sarah leapt in and slapped her across her face. Will immediately grabbed his wife's arms while Ratchet quickly came to check Misery. Optimus, surprised at the usually-demure-and-kind Mrs. Lennox _slapping_ someone, could only manage not to stare at her open-mouthed. He exchanged glance with Ratchet, then with Will.

"What," Sarah began, her voice faltering and new tears forming in her eyes, "are you thinking, Felicity? Don't you think of us as your relatives, your family?" Misery did not answer, nor raise her hand to her reddening cheek. She only looked at Sarah.

"Why do you think we'd think of you as burdens, you and May? I mean, _why_? What's made you into _this_, Felicity? Why do you want to be so alone and isolated? Why should you _leave_? I love you, you and May both. Not just me, but Will and Annabelle too. You're all I have left of Rebecca, and you're my nieces; I think of you as my own children. Why… why are you doing this?" she collapsed on the ground, blocking her sobs with her hands to her mouth. Will frantically tried to calm her, holding her in his arms. The place was quiet for a moment, only the endless sobs of the woman echoed throughout. Optimus turned to Misery, who slowly moved her head to face him with those unfocused, empty eyes of hers.

"You have already made up your mind and worked out a plan?" he asked. She nodded.

"I'm eighteen; legally adult. I can take care of myself. The place is not so far away from their house, not too expensive or unlivable. I already checked out the whole thing with the real estates. 

I know it sounds crazy, but I can manage it." she said, not breaking the eye contact for even a moment. Optimus could see the blazing determination in this girl's eyes, the fierce independence. He'd seen the same thing once in a spirit of a female; tall, proud, determined, willful…

His reverie broke when there was a hand waving in front of his face; Will. Clearing his holo-form's throat, Optimus again turned his attention upon Misery.

"What about your sister?" he asked. For the first time, he saw hesitation in her eyes.

"… She should stay with them," said Misery, after throwing a glance at Sarah and Will, "May's too young to be without a 'proper' family. She needs parents, or at least experience what it's like to be with them. I've talked with her several times, and in the end we both agreed that she should stay there. I'll have to talk with Aunt Sarah and Uncle Will though."

Optimus could see a tiny speck of guilt, sorrow, and regret in her eyes; she wanted nothing more than to be with her sister together. She had an iron will, but also a soft heart at the same time, hidden deep in the furthest corner of her heart. Despite the current situation, he felt his fascination in this girl return.

Sarah was getting up, with help from Will. She looked at Misery with tearful, sad eyes, and Misery met hers with her own gaze. Wiping the last remainder of her tears, she nodded after Misery had explained the terms; she was to go, May was to sojourn. There was nothing they could do to make her change her mind. Optimus had already seen her resolution, but the humans hadn't and they tried hard to persuade her, which was futile. She met their protests with either silence or murmured reply. In the end, they had to give up because she 'simply would not listen'. Will met Optimus' eyes, silently beckoning him to a corner so no one could hear.

"Should we let her?" was the first thing Will said when Optimus faced him, "I mean, you guys… are the guardians, and we already have Ironhide protecting us. Are you going to protect her as well even if she lives apart? Wouldn't it be too much trouble for you?"

Optimus blinked, then smiled. He was actually worried about them, which was kind of him. _Human mind indeed is interesting,_ he thought as he answered Will.

"Do not worry, Captain Lennox; we can spread our forces thinner still," he said, "I rather admire your niece's strong will and determination; few possess them." at his answer, Will smiled.

"Who's going to be her guardian?" Will asked, and Optimus considered his answer carefully. It could be either Ratchet, or himself. It would have been better with another soldier, though; 

Optimus suddenly missed Jazz. He would have offered his advices and help in one second. Pondering over the answer, Optimus decided.

"I will." Will's eyes widened at Optimus' answer.

"Are you sure? Really?" he asked doubtfully, and Optimus nodded. He had made up his mind.

Will sighed, scratched the back of his head awkwardly. He went to speak with Sarah about the arrangements. Optimus, meanwhile, went to tell Ratchet of the decision.

"Are you sure, sir?" Optimus didn't know whether to laugh or get irritated, for his CMO to ask the same question as the human captain did. He chose not to do either of them, but nod quickly.

"It has all been arranged. Now all I have to do is inform the protégée." He looked at Misery, who returned his looks with equally inquiring stares.

Ratchet laughed-or snorted- at his commander's answer. "Well, good luck with that," he said, as he playfully slapped Optimus' shoulder and walked past him. Taking a deep breath-if he could-, he approached Misery's bed.

"Miss O'Neil," he started, but Misery cut him off at once.

"It's _Misery_." She emphasized.

"Fine; Misery, I have something to explain to you…" Optimus explained, and throughout his explanation, she actually listened to him, with no interruption or hint of aggression.

* * *

This chapter is long….. I feel like I've already written what was supposed to have come in next chapters; but if you read carefully, there's not much of a plot… Mwahaha! (evil laugh)

**Reviews, people!**


	7. Shock of a lifetime

Thank you's for my faithful reviewers. I really appreciate your comments, thoughts, and messages. Love for each and every one of y'all!

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN TRANSFORMERS. I ONLY OWN THE PLOT AND THE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS OF THIS FANFIC.**

* * *

Misery stood in front of her new home, one foot on the step to the semi-truck's driver's seat, her hands holding the bars of a side-view mirror. The place was quite a small and old house, with almost no garden at all- if a tiny patch of soil at the front of the house could be called a garden, that is-, the paints were chipped here and there, and the front gate was rickety. It creaked as the wind blew and swayed it. Were it not for the walls painted white, it would have looked like a haunted house for sure.

Misery jumped off the semi-truck, and from the other side, took out her luggage. With two big suitcases in her hand, she walked unsteadily, tottering at the weight of them. Almost instantly, a man came out from the vehicle, and held out a hand to help her. She slowly raised her eyes to him, her gaze bleak and vacant, then slowly shook her head.

"I can manage this." she said.

"Misery, please… don't be stubborn. You can barely lift them." he said, sighing.

"I don't have to lift them. They've got wheels. I can pull them easy enough." Said Misery, and as if to prove it, she pulled the handles of the suitcases-which extended- and dragged them along the pavement.

"Yes, but I want to help you." he tried very hard not to raise his voice; even the tiniest thing could spark an argument with Misery.

"I don't need your help in this. I can do small things by myself; I'm not a helpless damsel-in-distress who needs help when she's got a trouble with her shoelaces." Said Misery, reaching out and pushing the gate with some difficulty. It made a metallic scraping sound as it reluctantly opened up.

"Welcome," she murmured dryly, to no one in particular; it was as if she was welcoming herself. The air was eerie and cool, "to a new home."

* * *

_Few weeks ago, Autobot base-_

"What do you mean, I'll have him to look after me?!" spat Misery, her blood-pressure rising in anger. She hadn't been _this_ mad in such a long time; she felt good somewhat. The rage, hatred, and anguish she had felt and accumulated in her heart, longed to burst out at a subject, no one in particular, but anyone. Ratchet carefully pushed her almost-lifted body back onto the bed, holding her there. She struggled, but the doctor was stronger than he looked.

"Lie still; do you want your wounds to reopen?" his brows are knitted doubtfully.

"I don't care!" she exclaimed, angry. Her midsection throbbed mercilessly every time she took in a deep breath and shouted. But she did not care about it at the moment. Her attention was wholly focused on Optimus, glaring at him with those deep, black eyes of hers.

"Felicity, please, calm down," Will put a hand on her arm, "he's just explained the whole thing to you. You are my niece, and even if you won't live with us, you will still need a protection."

"I don't need a protection. I never wanted one or suggested one. It's just you and the whole government people." She muttered.

"Whether you like it or not, you _do_ need one; believe me, Felicity."

Misery said nothing, simply continued to glare at Optimus. Will sighed.

"Look, Felicity, Optimus here- is a very experienced, professional soldier. He'll keep you from harm's way." He waved a hand in Optimus' direction.

"I don't care. I don't want anyone, especially a non-relative, to become my guardian. Why do I need one anyway, for god's sake?! I'm eighteen, I already said!" she shouted as far as her lungs could manage. After that, she really had to lie down whether Ratchet pushed her down or not because the pain burned her nerves. She could feel cold sweat forming on her forehead.

"Felicity," said Will, his gaze concerned, "Why are you so over-reactive?"

Misery stiffened. She forced herself to cool down, to take it easy. She must not let it show, her feelings and emotions. The memories. She had built her armor of enmity, the cold, gloomy air around her solely for that purpose. She forced the red-flaming dark emotions inside her to calm down, to lie still and dormant.

When they saw Misery was quiet, Will sighed and Optimus cautiously approached her. Her eyes pinned on Optimus.

"Misery," he said, "I promise you that I will not do anything to harm you or hurt your feelings. I only wish to protect you."

"How can I trust you?" she muttered, her ebony gaze averting from his blue one. Was it a misunderstanding if he thought he'd seen pain in her eyes? There was something she didn't want to say, something she had never even uttered out loud before. A secret kept, as he kept his locked in his heart and she hers. He took a deep breath.

"Is there something you're hiding from us? Something you haven't told us before?" he asked directly, and she flinched. She looked at him, her eyes burning with absolute detest and fury. Optimus met her eyes calmly. Will and Sarah came closer to Misery's bed, alarmed. Confronted by three-or four, to count Ratchet who was standing nearby just in case- adults, she only fumed, her head bent.

"Please, Felicity, tell us," Sarah pleaded, "don't try to carry all the hardships on your own; you can lighten it by telling other people. Talk to us, please." Will nodded, agreeing with his wife. Misery, who was only staring at her hands, finally lifted her head. Her eyes were the void itself. Optimus could feel her peculiar, glum air again.

"Don't make me say this twice." she said, and took a deep breath. "After Mum and Dad died- as you know- me and May went to live with this guy called Mike. He was Dad's half-brother, our closest relative who lived nearest to us. Actually, we'd never seen him before, but he took us in, probably because of the money the government gives to unemployed people taking care of kids. I don't really know, but we lived with him until he died. He made the living hell out of me and May's life; he'd beat the crap out of us every day. He was alcoholic." She stopped there, again staring at nothing. She blankly faced her uncle, aunt and Optimus. Sarah hesitantly reached out to hold Misery's hand, to stroke her pale cheek.

"You poor thing…" she murmured, the tears gleaming in her eyes again, "I didn't know… honestly I never knew…" then she pulled Misery into her arms, hugging her tightly. Misery yelped a little, before mumbling she was fine and that Sarah was hurting her ribs. Optimus saw that it was painful for her to speak this aloud; and yet, he had a feeling that this was not all. She hadn't said the whole thing. But he decided not to inquire her anymore, as he could see that this had hurt her enough already. It had taken a lot for her to tell this.

After the agitation had settled down, Optimus again asked Misery, "Is that why you refuse to have a guardian? Because you are afraid I would abuse you the same way your foster parent did?" She frowned at him, but nodded reluctantly.

"I give you my word- I would never do anything to hurt you in anyway." He said, straightening his back and firmly gazing at Misery. She gave him a doubtful glance.

"If you do not believe me, I will show you the reason why I'd swear to protect you," Will instantly flashed him an alarmed look.

"Are you sure? You're gonna show her?" he asked incredulously. Optimus nodded.

"She would have found it out sooner or later if she'd continued to live with you, Captain Lennox; Ironhide is somewhat lax when it comes to hiding our identity."

"Yeah, but-" Will started to interject, but Optimus shook his head.

"We Autobots, and I as well, have sworn to protect humanity at all cost, in any situation; especially our allies and friends. If this is what it takes to convince her, then I shall do so." his voice was so poised, Will couldn't help but nod helplessly. They all watched him as he walked away from them. Ratchet unfolded his arms and went to stand with the humans, closely observing his leader. Their holographic eyes met, and Ratchet briefly nodded. Nodding back, Optimus turned off his holo-form. Misery's eyes became huge when she saw that the person who was just standing a distance away from her had simply disappeared.

"What the-" she looked at Sarah and Will, her mouth agape now. Will patted her shoulder, as if telling her to watch. She did, her eyes fastening on the spot where Optimus was standing.

Out of nowhere, a semi-truck appeared, its body painted with crimson flames over the blue background color. _Where the hell had __**that**__ come from?_ Misery thought as she didn't take her eyes off the vehicle.

Suddenly, with clinking and metallic snaps, the car began to change shape, the parts moving into here and there. Misery only stared at it as a pair of legs formed, standing solidly on the ground, arms, torso, all the other stuff- and finally, a head. It had blue eyes and a face that very much resembled the man Misery knew as 'Optimus Prime'; its features were sharp and well-shaped, like the human-Optimus Prime she remembered. The robot knelt to see the humans from their eye levels. His gaze locked with Misery's. She was staring at him without blinking, her mouth closed now but eyes widened so big that her black eyes really looked like a cat's.

"Do you believe me now?" asked the robot. Misery's brain faintly acknowledged it as the voice similar to what she had heard before, though this one was more deep and rough. She could only nod, mesmerized.

"Good," it said, nodding. Misery could then finally understand why the ceiling was so unnaturally high in this building- otherwise it couldn't have fit the mighty-big robot. But that thought soon passed as well when she looked at the shining metal, the red-and-blue paintjob, and the piercing-azure eyes.

"Will you allow me to be your guardian, Misery?" Misery, again, nodded helplessly. Smiling in satisfaction at her answer, the robot stood up.

"Allow me to repeat the introduction in more detail; I am Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots, the autonomous robotic organisms from the planet Cybertron. After the battle of the Mission City, in which the humanity was saved but our life-giving core Allspark had been destroyed, we have decided to make Earth our new home-planet and settled here." Explained Optimus. Misery's head bobbed up and down, but then she dropped onto the bed almost at once, her body flopping abruptly. The surprised Lennox's and Ratchet immediately ran to her, seeing if she was alright. Optimus, startled as well, quickly formed the hologram and joined in checking Misery.

"She's just fainted," said Ratchet, and Sarah and Will sighed in relief. Optimus smiled as well, relieved, although Ratchet gave him an annoyed look, "it must have been a shock to see a giant foreign robot to be transforming right in front of her."

"Sam and Mikaela did not react like her when they saw us," protested Optimus.

"But you forget, Optimus, that not all humans are alike. There's more than meets the eye in every single one of them. Not just in unison, but individually." The medic's answer left Optimus dazed, but he soon realized that Ratchet was right. He looked at the worried couple, looking down on their niece, and Misery, who was lying on the bed, whiter than ever.

* * *

So, yeah, Optimus _is_ moving in with Misery. He scared the holy crap out of her, hehe. Hopefully there'll be romances blooming soon enough! **Reviews!**


	8. Raison d'etre

Yay, holiday's just a week away! (screams happily/shrilly) As always, thanks for the reviews! Every time I read the reviews left by people, I feel like my heart's gonna burst from happiness! (giggles)

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN TRANSFORMERS. I ONLY OWN THE PLOT AND THE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS OF THIS FANFIC.**

* * *

I hear a screaming voice, but soon realize it is mine. My throat burns from all the screaming and crying. It's as if they've dried up and are rubbing against each other, like sands of a desert. My hands sway madly, but are uselessly beaten back. A strong hand slapping my cheek, feet kicking my torso and legs. Pain. Pain. **Pain**. That's all my brain acknowledges. Pain, horror, fear, and another thing.

The growing hate towards… practically everything.

Though he may be drunk, he is instinctively skilled in beating. He rarely breaks anything, but leaves enough of bruise for me to groan and strain with agony. Why does he do this? Does he see his half-nieces as objects of aversion, dolls that can be punched and kicked whenever he feels like it? It's fine with me, but I can't let him touch May. I won't. That bastard should know better than to lay a hand on a child barely more than an infant!

"You bitch!" he shouts, driving a foot into my chest. I'm sprawled in the corner, coughing and gasping for air. Another kick, this time on my stomach. I curl myself into a ball, arms around my abdomen. It feels like my organs are screwed inside, mashed into one. I let out a tiny cry, tears flooding out of my eyes. Something tastes bitter and salty in my mouth. I embrace that taste, a reminder that I'm still alive.

"Good-for-nothing, useless, little-" I shut my eyes, managing to slap my hands over my ears, blocking out the last word. The verbal abuse is worse than getting beaten, the cruel words carving my whole heart out. My eyes open into a crack, and the littered house comes into my view; glasses broken and small furniture smashed into pieces. He throws everything everywhere when he's in a drunken rage. No wonder this house is so drab, with only sofas, tables, chairs and a television he couldn't manage to lift and throw.

What did I do to deserve this? Why was I treated this way?

"I'm going to kill you!" I peek, and see a glinting silver blade, held up ominously. My eyes widen in panic, and he clenches his jaw menacingly, grinning and baring the predator-like teeth. Before I can even open my mouth to scream, the knife is already plunged between my ribs.

"What… wha…" I try to speak, but it's only blood, not the words that come out. The eyes meet. He laughs, visibly enjoying the moment immensely. My body slumps, spreading out on the floor. The blood is thick, and feels unnaturally real. I can't do anything as the bastard turns… to get May… _Can't…_

* * *

"_**Don't you touch her you son of a bitch!"**_ Misery screamed as she jumped up from her bed. Her eyes could not see anything because of the darkness; slowly, as her eyes adjusted to the dark, she recognized the contours of the desk, the closet, and the side-table the dim light seeping through the closed curtains made. Panting, she scanned the room right and left, then suddenly winced and cringed in pain from the midsection. Ratchet had told her even though the she had healed, she still shouldn't strain her injury too much. But she didn't care at this moment; it was rather a welcome distraction from the nightmare. She let the throbbing sensation spread over her nervous system, and let out a hissing breath as it reached its climax. Level by level, the pain began to decrease. Misery looked at the clock on the side-table.

It was exactly half-past eight, the digital red numbers flickering.

"Oh, hell no…" Misery groaned as she kicked the blanket away. She jumped to her feet, grabbing the clothes and darting out to the bathroom, took a quick shower of five minutes. She put on her clothes as quick as possible, snatched a leftover toast from yesterday on the dining table, then ran off to Optimus, who was parked outside the house in disguise of a semi-truck as there was no decent garage at the residence.

"Hey," after a moment of hesitation, she lightly hit the bonnet of the car. The engine growled to life. The driver's seat-door opened for her.

"Good morning. Did you have a good sleep?" asked Optimus good-naturedly as Misery climbed into him.

"No." she muttered. Seeing that she did not want to talk any further, he promptly drove her to the school.

Misery rushed into the classroom as the bell rang at the exact moment. The teacher raised an eyebrow, giving her the 'you're-saved-by-a-second' look. Ignoring him, she walked to her place. Struggling to keep her eyes open during the boring lesson of English, she fanatically wished inwardly that it would be over soon. Her wish must have been granted, because as she drearily wrote down notes and answered questions written on the board, the time flew fast and she was sitting alone at her desk, reading.

A shadow loomed over the book held in her hands. She lifted her head to find Mikaela and Sam. She gave them an inquiring look.

"Do you wanna come and have lunch with us? There's some 'stuff' we'd like to discuss with you too." Said Mikaela as she met Misery's eyes. Understanding what she meant, Misery stood up without any protest and followed them to the grass field of the earlier scuffle. As they sat down on warm grass, Misery raised an eyebrow at Mikaela, beckoning her to 'discuss'.

"Optimus has become your guardian, right?" Mikaela asked. Misery merely nodded.

"Well, you'll know about what happened last year; the evil robots called Decepticons tried to take over the Earth, and they had some nasty fight with Autobots, the good guys. Sam here, he saved the Earth a year ago by shoving the Allspark into Megatron's-the boss of the bad-bots, that is- chest. Sure, the Allspark was destroyed as well and there was a casualty, but ultimately the Autobots won and they've now settled down in Earth."

"I know that. My self-appointed guardian told me." said Misery, almost scoffing at the ridiculous thought of the Earth being saved by a bunch of robots and a not-so-quite-special-looking boy. Mikaela cleared her throat.

"Y'know, they're not that bad. They just mean to protect you… us." Said the girl, but Misery glanced at her, uninterested.

"And they're quite fun once you get to know them, though Optimus is almost always serious…" Sam chimed in, but Misery gave him the same look as she did to Mikaela.

"I don't care whether they're interesting or serious. I never wanted 'protection'. I'm not a juvenile delinquent or a troublemaker under a house arrest. I just want to be on my own." Said Misery. Mikaela exchanged a glance with Sam.

"Nobody said you're a delinquent or a troublemaker. He's just trying to keep you away from harm." Said Sam.

"What harm?"

"Well, those bad guys, the Decepticons, are still lurking around…" Sam trailed off, nearly cowering from Misery's inhumanely cold and empty gaze. They felt cold from being _with_ her, though the Sun was shining high and strong.

"But they were defeated, weren't they?" said Misery. Mikaela shook her head.

"Not really. Starscream, the Decepticon's second-in-command, ran away- and there's that insane policecar, Barricade. They might come back any time. And when they do, they're likely to target us. The humans around the Autobots, I mean. That's why we each have guardians protecting us."

Misery's brain flared in alarm at Mikaela's statement: they were likely to attack humans around the Autobots first. What if those robots went for Lennox's residence, specifically speaking, endanger May? Surely her uncle, Will Lennox, was one of the humans who had direct contact with the Decepticons and therefore had more connection with them than the rest of the humans? She shivered.

"I understand now." She said quietly. Nodding, Mikaela soon lifted a hopeful smile. "Who knows? It's been a year since they vanished, and if we're _really_ lucky, they might not return at all… but it's very unlikely. However," Mikaela held out her hand towards Misery. She looked at Mikaela, tilting her head. "We're on the same boat, Misery. I hope we'll be good friends."

Misery stared at her outstretched hand before hesitantly stretching out her hand to shake hands. Misery's hand was cold, as if she was a dead body instead of a living person, and Mikaela noticed the cold air around her lightly flinching; Misery was obviously not used to the friendships or such intimate emotions. _Well, with luck, that'll be fixed,_ thought Mikaela as she watched Misery shake hands with Sam. He actually shuddered when he touched the girl's skin. Unnoticing, Misery quickly retracted her hand.

"So… how's it going with Optimus?" asked Mikaela, trying to brighten the heavy air. Misery was now sitting with her legs gathered to her chest, her arms wrapped around her knees. Her eyes were blind to the world.

"Nothing." She answered.

"What do you mean, nothing?" Mikaela asked again, and she was met with that disturbing blank gaze which was a trademark of Misery; it seemed to hang around her all the time.

"He's a guardian. So what's a big deal?"

"Well, do you _communicate_ with him?" Mikaela waved her hands for a dramatic effect. Misery thought for a moment.

"He takes me to school, picks me up. He stays outside the house 'cause there's no garage." _Even if there __**was**__ a garage it wouldn't be big enough to fit __**him**__, _Misery thought as she spoke.

"Not even a hello or good-morning or anything?" Sam butted in, astonished. Mikaela nudged him; Misery looked at him from the corner of her eyes, turning again.

"Not unless it was absolutely necessary." Misery concluded.

"Man, how do you _live life_?" Sam rolled his eyes as he exclaimed. Mikaela nudged him again, this time murmuring to him to be quiet. Misery stood up.

"If that's all you want to discuss, I'll go." her eyes were icy-cold as she looked at Sam. Before they could even wave a good-bye, she was walking back to the classroom. As Mikaela watched Misery go away, she angrily stabbed Sam in the ribs.

"What?!" he squeaked. Mikaela glared at him.

"You don't understand anything about a girl's psychology, do you?" retorted Mikaela. Sam cowered at the anger of his girlfriend. She was a friendly girl and extremely protective of her acquaintances, and she could be quite fearsome when she wanted to be.

"I actually feel sorry for her; poor girl. She probably wasn't like that from the start, you know."

"How do you know?" Sam questioned incredulously.

"I've seen it a lot. Some people just distance themselves away from others 'cause… they're afraid."

"Afraid of what?" At that, Mikaela didn't know how to answer. Without another word, she stood up and followed Misery in her way to classroom, and Sam quickly ran to catch up.

* * *

The school was over, finally. I ambled to the roads where the familiar semi-truck stood, waiting for me.

"Hello, Misery. How was school?" asked my guardian through radio. I blinked. Should I answer? Well, I didn't want any arguments to rise concerning my manners and rudeness, so just decided to give him a simple answer.

"Good." I said monotonously. The conversation between us was always like this; one-way, he doing all the talks and I only saying few words- although to be honest, he himself didn't talk as much-. It wasn't that I wasn't curious about his species or other extraordinary stuff. I mean, how many people in the world would have a chance of living with a giant alien robot? But I suppressed my emotions yet again. Curiosity kills a cat. It _had_, and it will again. If I asked him questions, naturally it would lead to more and more conversations, and eventually I would end up opening my heart up to him, and basically to everyone else in the world. I wouldn't let it happen. I didn't want to risk the safety which I was holding with difficulty now.

Was I afraid to take risks? May be. I just didn't want to get hurt anymore. Was that so selfish and small-minded? I'd suffered enough, me and May; my heart was so bruised and scarred that I was barely managing to stand on the furthest and deepest corner of it, begging for the small mercy of being left alone, of not getting hurt. I knew I deserved better than Mike and the hellish years I spent with him. Optimus Prime certainly was the best guardian I could ever wish compared to Mike, but still… I didn't want to form any intimacy with anyone, except for May. Not only because he was something other than human, but…

The truck stopped, and I knew we were home. The door opened up automatically, and I jumped down from the seat. The trail of thought which had been running through my mind was broken, easily forgotten and put aside. I was what I was; it would be unchangeable.

* * *

We'll see about _that_, Misery. Oh boy, I've been playing laptop for what, 7-8 hours non-stop and I think I'll stop here. I'll go off to watch a DVD after uploading this chappie… well, cheers! And **REVIEWS**!!


	9. Night rain

The writer's block. **Again.** Also I'd sprained a finger… oh well. Thank you to all my patient and faithful reviewers. It was, honestly, your supports which helped me decide to continue on with this story. I deleted Amnesia because, after three efforts of trying to write more than one story at a time, it proved to be too much of a strain for myself. I'm a scatter-brain, and I'm no good at multi-tasking. Hopefully you'll bear with this capricious writer. Thank you again.

WARNING: Emo-Misery. Well, when was she _not_ emo, you might say…

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN TRANSFORMERS. I ONLY OWN THE PLOT AND THE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS OF THIS FANFIC.**

* * *

There are times. Times when you suddenly feel so weary of all things around you. Times when you suddenly feel like throwing everything to the wall, into thousands of pieces. Times when you suddenly get an urge to kill yourself in any method possible.

Or was it just me who felt the death-wish at almost any random occasions?

Funny. Death was often an unwelcome visitor to living, especially to humans. What I found astonishingly ironic was that when I'd wished for it so strongly to come, it never did; it was just a bystander, leering at me from where I was lying, trying to reach it with an outstretched hand. When I frantically wanted to live, on the other hand, more than once, it had threatened to take me away from this miserable world. Sure, I'd evaded it couple of times, but it was never a pleasant experience.

Right now, I felt the familiar death-wish warming up on me, almost taking over me. As I (almost) always did, I batted it away. I thought of May and the Lennox's, and anyone who would be sad when I'd left. But then again, there weren't many. Someone had said that the value of a person could be judged by the number of people shedding tears for him when he died. If that person were true, then I wouldn't even be worth five cents. I snorted, bitter.

It was another rainy night. It had been raining non-stop for three days. I was sitting on the chair, a cup of cold coffee in front of me, just listening to air, the rain whistling down. It was mad, the weather; it was raining like crazy. When the surroundings were as capricious as now they were, it was harder to push the suicidal urge away. I stood up, deciding to take a little walk in the rain. May be it'll calm my nerves a bit.

As I walked out of the house with a black umbrella, the semi-truck beeped, its headlights flashing. I squinted and pushed the rickety gate, forcing it to open. Optimus appeared in front of me, frowning.

"Where are you going in this weather, Misery?"

"For a walk." I answered shortly, kicking the gate shut and turning to face him. His… human-form–whatever that was called- was getting wet, like a real human. How advanced were their technologies to make up a form that was so realistic?

"It's twenty-six minutes past midnight," he said tiredly, "and I cannot allow you to go anywhere at this hour- especially all by yourself."

"_You_ go to sleep then. I'm going. I need this." that was final, and I walked away from him, from the house. Oddly enough, he didn't catch me. He was just staring at my back, and I could feel his stares digging into my back like blue lasers. I ignored him and crossed the road to continue my destination-less stroll. The night was cold and the raindrops were so forceful, and soon my arms and legs were wet. The air was cold. My body was cold. But I kept walking to get rid of this thing. Soon I was out of the view from the house. The raindrops became stronger, hurting every time they smashed against me. I felt numb, but I wished my _brain_ was numb. So I wouldn't feel anything. I didn't… want anything, only to be… emptied out.

I was standing on the road; I didn't know when I'd walked here. In the middle of the night and in this part of town, no cars went past. The arm holding up an umbrella was hanging loosely down, and I couldn't feel it. The rain washed me, practically bathing me in the dirty, possibly contaminated water. Again, I didn't care. It just felt cold and good. It was as if the already-filthy water was purging me, who was as black as the night itself. I didn't know when I'd started to cry, but it was tears mixing with rainwater, dripping down my face. My knees gave away, and I slumped down on my knees, looking up at the sky. If anyone had seen me, they would have thought I was mad… but the streets were empty. And I wouldn't have cared even if someone saw me. I felt somewhat clean and free.

Just let it rain. **Rain**. Wash all my tears away and hide them. It was the ultimate camouflage. I smiled. I could stay here forever, literally. I wouldn't mind. And I let the time just tick away…

* * *

**(Optimus)**

It was now quarter past one in the morning. She had not comeback yet. Could something have happened to her? Possibly; it seemed that great deal of misfortunes followed in her wake, not to mention her getting run over by a car like last time. I deactivated my holo-form, and went out to search for Misery in the vehicle-mode. The weather was still not good; it was raining harder now. Where could she have gone in this weather, in this hour of night? Concerned for her safety, I increased the speed. The town was eerily quiet, its streets and roads deserted. The air was as dark as the other side of the moon.

Driving around a corner, I spotted her; _what was she doing?_ She was kneeling on the asphalt road, looking up at the sky, smiling as if she'd gone mad. The sight sent a shiver down my CPU. It was ominous, yet somewhat inapproachable. It felt as if there was an invisible barrier of her solitude between her and me. She didn't notice that I was here; only when my holo-form appeared and started to walk towards her did she slowly tilt her head to look at it.

"Misery." She did not react. She stared at me, her eyes clear and empty. She was absolutely drenched, with water practically _flowing_ from her. I gently took hold of her arm; she flinched. I myself could feel the soaking rain already beginning to wet me. It did not feel nice, and her breathing-though she did not seem to realize it- was ragged, uneven and wavering. She had to be taken away from all this rain; low body temperature was dangerous for humans. I helped her stand up. She didn't resist. She faltered and leaned against me heavily, her legs weak from kneeling for so long. With Misery clinging onto me, I helped her into my vehicle form. She was cold; she now shivered, her lips almost purple and with dark circles under her eyes. Misery was always nonchalant and quiet, but it was worse on the way back. It was as if the fog was surrounding her; so thick and frozen it was, that it didn't even allow the glimpse of her mind. What was she thinking, staying outside like that all by herself?

Even when she was back in the house with a blanket wrapped around her to warm her, she was still silent. I sat in front of her, patiently waiting for an explanation, or any kind of reaction. But she did neither of these things; she kept staring at the table between us. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore.

"Misery," I said slowly, but she showed no reaction still, "what were you doing at the road? You could have been run over by a car, or catch cold- or worse, pneumonia. And your lungs have not healed properly yet. Is something matter?"

As if playing a slow-motion image, she raised her eyes to meet mine. It was shocking to see her eyes; not because they were void as usual, but there was something in them. Quiet and hidden, it was agony. It was-_she_ was- screaming inside herself, curled up into a ball at the corner of herself, asking for any help. It was more painful to see because on the outside, she didn't show it. I could almost hear the excruciating scream, her wails of anguish.

After a long silence of staring, she finally opened her lips. Her voice was hushed and hoarse, "I'm telling you this," she said, "not because I'm thinking you as a friend… or anything… I'm just telling you this… 'cause I'm going to kill myself if I don't… talk."

"I understand." I lied; truth was, I did not fully understand her emotions, but could only guess. But this was the chance I could learn more about her, and may be help her through it. Taking a shallow breath, she started to speak, hesitant and unsure.

* * *

Next part, THE revelation. I'd managed to drag it 'til now, but I'd better be telling it sooner or later, so… REVIEWS! Thanks!


	10. Antinostalgia

Stupid internet. I really should be blaming Telecom…

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN TRANSFORMERS. I ONLY OWN THE PLOT AND THE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS OF THIS FANFIC.**

* * *

How many miseries can they happen in one person's life?

* * *

_Seven years ago-_

I was anxiously sitting on the chair. Dad was pacing right and left, nervous and worried, outside the labor room where Mum was struggling to give birth to my sister. The hospital smelled of the chemicals I didn't know the names of. It was the smell of death. I was trembling from fear; the screams of agony could be heard very loudly from the room, even though the walls were supposed to be soundproof. May be I shouldn't have come. May be I should have just stayed at home…

"It's fine, Felicity," Dad saw me shaking, and he put an arm around me, trying to calm me down. I smiled reluctantly, because he himself was visibly scared as well. He was pale, beads of sweats on his forehead, "Mum's gonna be okay."

"Did she scream so much when she was having _me_?" I asked, and he shook his head several times, murmuring she didn't. I knew from Mum's swollen belly that she was with a child, my younger sister- and I was overjoyed at first. I had Mum and Dad alright, but it was a bit boring for me to be alone at times with no one to play with. I'd longed for a brother or a sister for a long, long time and now my wish was about to be granted- but with Mum screaming like that, it suddenly didn't appeal to me as a very good idea. Sure, Mum looked a little pale since she was pregnant, but I didn't know if there was anything wrong. Every time I'd asked her if she was okay, she would always smile and say she was fine.

"May be you should go away for a while, Felicity," Dad took a hold of my shoulder.

"No. I'm staying here," I pouted my lips and crossed my arms, insistent, "'Cause I'm going to see my Mum and my sister, all happy and good. Mum's gonna be fine, isn't she, Dad?"

"Y-yes. I'm sure." He smiled again, but there was something in that smile which I did not quite grasp. At that moment, the ear-splitting scream was heard from the labor room; I instinctively covered my ears to block it away; it was too full of pain, too full of… despair. It was the most anguished cry I had ever heard.

"What's going on? Dad!" I yelled, clinging onto him tight. He held me close as well, eyes shining with tears. I felt like crying as well…

The doors opened, and a doctor in a green gown and green mask appeared. He took off the mask with his gloved hands. Letting me go, Dad approached him. I didn't hear what the doctor said, but Dad's face lost all its blood when he heard him. He stood, stunned. He didn't react until I shook his hand, very hard.

"Dad! Dad!" I shouted, "Are you okay? What's happened? Is Mum alright?"

"Felicity," he looked at me. I had never seen Dad like this before; so vacant and hollow his eyes were, they chilled me to the very core of myself. He knelt in front of me abruptly, as if his knees had collapsed. He grabbed my hands with his big hands, very gently. He then spoke the words which I could never, ever forget:

"Sweetheart, Mum's… Mum's gone. She's gone to the heaven." Tears spilled from his eyes as he dropped his head. I stared at him, trying to comprehend the words he'd just said: Mum was dead. She was no longer here with us. I couldn't see her, or hug her, or eat a batch of cookies she'd just baked with her and Dad, ever again.

The world fell. And there was Dad, shouting and trying to get a hold of me…

But I never heard a single thing as I blacked out.

* * *

When I opened my eyes, I was lying on the hospital chair, my head resting on Dad's thighs. He smiled sadly when I lifted myself. Tears came to my own eyes as I realized the painful truth again. Mum was dead. And that was it. Was this how lives ended, so simply and easily told with just few words? It didn't seem right. It wasn't as simple as that, the loss of someone I loved so deeply…

"Felicity," Dad softly called me, snapping me back to reality, "Your sister… she's alive, thank God. Mum's gone, honey, but she's left us your sister."

The sudden heat of rage burnt within me. My mother was **DEAD BECAUSE OF HER!** I clenched my fists so tightly, I could feel the nails digging into my skin and almost cutting me.

"Where is she?" I tried to keep the growl from my voice, though it was not really successful. Dad hesitated when he saw me.

"She… actually, Felicity, she's ill," said Dad, "_very_ ill. She's being taken care of right now."

"I want to see her. Where is she?" Dad sighed, and he stood up. I followed him, walking right behind so he couldn't see me seething in anger. I was going to kill her, that miserable, good-for-nothing sister of mine- I even loathed calling the _thing_ my _sister_! _She'd_ killed my mum. And I was going to kill her for revenge, for taking Mum away from me and Dad-

"There she is," he pointed at the glass. I approached it, and through it, I could clearly see the busy people pacing about madly. When I finally spotted her, however, I was shocked out of my skull.

The baby was in the gigantic machine which I'd never seen before. Massive and strange tubes of all kinds were connected to it, making huge swooshing sounds. The beeping machines and squiggly lines on the monitors showed her heartbeat. The lines went up and down very irregularly, and the peaks were poorly low. But what captured my sight was the baby itself. The baby was wincing-actually wincing- painfully. It didn't cry- probably because it didn't have any strength left to cry. It was virtually _fighting_ to take each breath, its hands and feet convulsing weakly from time to time. Unlike any other babies I'd seen so far, it was not healthy pink but sickly white, and not much plump as well. There were thin tubes attached to it too, making the baby look like an aliens' experimental subject like the ones I'd seen from movies.

Dad stood next to me, putting a hand on my shoulder. I glanced up at him, trying to ask but failing pathetically; I was so shocked, I couldn't get out a single word. He understood my silent question, and answered me.

"Your sister, Felicity… has a weak heart; she was not fully grown when she came out. It was a bit too early, and as a result, some parts of her aren't fully developed," he explained, his eyes sad as he gazed at the baby. The heart of revenge, the desire of wanting to kill her vanished like a smoke from me. I couldn't possibly bring myself to hate her with all my heart now. She was too weak, too pitiful… she was battling against death to survive. I started to cry from guilt and shame. Dad lowered himself to meet my eyes, to wipe my tears away.

"Felicity," he grasped my shoulders yet again, this time strong and demanding, "You've had a mother for eleven years; you're a big girl now. But what about your newborn sister? She's just a baby, not even a day old. And she's just lost her mum. She's never going to know her as you do. So you have to be a sister and a mother to her- take care of her, never hate her or think that she's taken Mum away- because Mum would have loved your sister as much as she's loved you, no matter she was alive or dead," His hands were warm and assuring, "Mum knew she might not be alright if she gave birth to your sister. But she decided to have her, because she loved her- and you too, Felicity."

I couldn't stop crying. I had never cried so hard in my life. I cried for Mum, who'd left us and was in heaven now, watching from up above. I cried for my dad, who was alone and had duties to carry out now Mum was gone. I cried for my poor sister, who was motherless and sick. And finally, I cried for myself, for all the miseries that have hit us so suddenly.

* * *

I lost Dad as unexpectedly as I'd lost Mum. May was sixteen months old, well past the milk-drinking age. She provided what laughter that still existed in our household. She was so happy, so innocent and playful as if she knew what her birth meant, and was trying to make up for it. She wasn't as sick as she had been when she was born, although she had to visit the hospital time to time. I'd grown to love her as much as Dad did; she resembled Mum very much though she was just a baby.

I was playing with her when I heard a sudden crash from Dad's study; I ran, leaving her and making her cry. Had something happened to Dad? He'd been looking pretty ill for some time, but surely not-

"Dad!" I crashed into the study, bursting the door open. He was sprawled on his desk, eyes half-closed. I rushed to him. What'd happened? His face was milky white, his breathing labored and shallow. I panicked, not knowing what to do.

"Dad! Dad!!" I kept shouting, shaking his arm. He lifted a hand with difficulty, pointing at the phone on the desk and murmuring something. Out of pure reflex, I grabbed the phone and called 911.

"911 emergency. How may I help you?"

"My dad- there's something wrong with him. He won't- he won't wake up." I started to sob, scared.

"Where do you live? What is his condition exactly?" the woman's voice became alarmed, hurrying.

"His face is all white- and, and he's not breathing properly- Please help him!" I burst into tears in the end. I couldn't stop it, as I couldn't on the day May was born.

"Where do you live? Give me the address!" she repeated. I managed to tell her between the sobs. I fell down to my knees, dropping the receiver and covering my face with my hands, crying and crying. The rest was as if the slow-motion montage was shown: the people came, taking Dad, me, and May away to the same hospital where Mum had died and May was born. I shook badly, holding May in my arms as I was sitting on the chair, waiting for Dad. She looked at me, with her huge blue eyes.

"Daddy's gonna be alright," I whispered, but it sounded more as if I was trying to assure myself rather than her, "He's going to be fine. Don't worry, May."

The doors opened, and a doctor in a green gown and green mask appeared. He took off the mask with his gloved hands. The same scene, as I'd seen on the day when Mum died. Feeling dizzy, I approached him with May. He looked down on me, his small and old eyes full of pity.

"My girl," he said, his hands fidgeting with his gloves, "I'm very sorry to tell you this terrible news, but your father… has passed away."

The world fell. I felt like fainting again, but then I could feel May's weight in my arms. I kept control over my body, and forced myself to meet his eyes.

"Was it painful…?" I asked, but words were choked on sobs. Understanding this question, he shook his head, a hand on my shoulder.

So Dad followed Mum, leaving me and May alone in this world. I felt numb and chaotic- the myriads of emotions churned within me, confusing me and making me dull. All the memories of past seemed like pieces of puzzles- all broken, lost, and hard to find. We moved to live with Mike, Dad's half-brother whom I'd never heard of or met before.

* * *

The first impression of a person, they say, tells many things about him. I could tell from the first glance that he was not a very tidy person- because he wore a crumpled, stained shirt and his jeans were unzipped. I could also see that he drank alcohol too much every day. And most important of all, that he didn't offer to take us in because he was lonely and wanted children for company, or because he was obliged, for the sake of his dead half-brother- because he wanted the subsidy from the government. He was, apparently, unemployed, and didn't seem like he wanted a job too much. When he set his eyes on us for the first time, he squinted with his dim eyes. I shrank away, holding May's hand tight.

"Well, just keep the hell out of my way and stay silent." This was the first thing he'd said to us. I instantly knew that our lives with him would be weary and miserable. He spent any money that came into his pocket by drinking and buying women. He brought his girlfriends to home almost every day. I covered my ears at night, trying to block out the disgusting sounds that could be clearly heard through the poorly soundproofed walls of the house. Sometimes he'd manage to stay with one woman for some time; my favorite was Katie Hood, who had unarranged brunette and pearly gray eyes. She was humorous and fun. She brought us treats whenever she came for a visit, and she'd play with us if time allowed. But she didn't last long with Mike as well, because he wouldn't stop philandering with other women. It was lonely, gloomy and hard. Mike beat us-_me_- whenever he felt like doing so.

When May was three years old, he'd tried to hit her- and I, for the first time since I came to live with him- stood up against him. I told him, if he'd even laid a finger on her, I'd go straight to the police and tell them what he's been doing to us all this time. He scoffed and said if I'd even said a word to anyone, he'd kill me and May, and dump our bodies in the river behind the block. Actually, the incident had happened before and who had done it, it went undiscovered. But it must have cautioned him, because he didn't attempt to hit her again after that. It was me, always. No one cared. No one saw. I kept silent, afraid he'd really kill both of us.

I tried to kill myself few times after I came to live with him; a fistful of aspirin, several wrist-cutting. The aspirin didn't work because Mike's new girlfriend found me unconscious and made me throw up the whole thing into the toilet; he had beaten me senseless after he found out. Wrist-cutting didn't turn out so fine as well- once I'd almost succeeded, but May came into the bathroom and saw me. She didn't know what I was doing of course, but she saw me bleeding and asked if I was okay, so innocently. I managed to tell her I was fine, and asked her to bring me a phone. Every time I'd tried to kill myself, it was because I was tired of everything- tired of Mike, tired of this life, tired even of May. I wanted to be free, to leave this lousy world. But somehow I stayed. Somehow.

Once I'd tried to kill myself by falling into the river. The water was so dirty as I stared into it, I would have died of suffocation rather than drowning. I took a deep breath, and was about to let go of the metal fence I was holding onto when I heard a voice.

"What are you doing?!" a strong hand grabbed me, pulling me away from the river. I struggled against the stranger, shouting "Let me go!"

"If I let you go, you're going to jump into the river." the stranger said doubtfully- it was a man.

"No I won't. It's way too dirty for me to drown." I answered. He laughed and let me go. As I scanned him, he was tall and strongly-built. Muscles could be clearly seen through his t-shirt. He had a scar or two on his face, making him look fearsome. But he was smiling.

"Why is a young girl like you trying to drown?" he asked, his eyes full of pity and concern.

"None of your business." I muttered, turning away.

"Well, it _is_ none of my business. You look like you led quite a hard life." He said, glancing at my left wrist; it was full of zigzag scars. I quickly pulled the sleeve over my wrist, hiding the scars.

"I feel… I just feel too powerless. Too weak. I can't help anyone I love, save myself." I murmured, sad and helpless now. He gazed at me, rubbing his chin with his fingers.

"Hey, if you'd like… I'll teach you how to fight." I looked at him, not believing what he'd just said, "Y'know, how to protect yourself and all that jazz. You look as though you need some help."

I stared, before smiling slowly. "Oh yes. I could definitely use some help."

* * *

With martial arts I learnt from Josh-that was my teacher's name-, I grew strong, slowly. I could take Mike's beatings as easily as I could never do before. Ironically, the beatings I got every day had actually increased my endurance and stamina, funnily enough. But I dared not fight back against Mike because he held May hostage. I couldn't risk it. But when the misfortunes are the constant companions of your life, you slowly get used to it. I became cold, callous. So that even the worst misery couldn't shake me. I distanced myself from people. I wanted no one in my life.

Soon after May's seventh birthday, Mike died. Same way as Dad had died, except Mike's cause was excessive alcohol consumption. He'd drunken too much beer, and then fallen off to sleep for too long. I didn't cry for him, naturally. I stared down at his tombstone, unwavering. I would have spat on it if this was few years ago. But I couldn't even be bothered doing it now.

"Where are we gonna go now, Fel?" May had asked, holding onto my hand tight. She was the only one who still called me by my old name.

"I don't know, May," I squeezed her hand, "But we'll found out soon. Hopefully."

* * *

The rain kept going on and on, making distinctively loud noises. It made the silence in the house even quieter. Optimus didn't know what to say; her story was unlike any of the ones he had heard before. But what made it even more forlorn was that she did not break down while telling. She remained stone-calm and emotionless, her eyes fixed on the table.

"Is that why you call yourself 'Misery'?" he asked, unsure. Misery nodded.

"It only seemed fit." She answered monotonously. Yes, it had seemed fit; Felicity was the name of the girl with innocence and happiness she'd lost so long ago. Misery had taken her place, a twisted, misshapen, yet strong and callous young woman who knew the truth: the more you stayed disconnected from people, the better. She'd known nothing else other than miseries until she came to live with the Lennox's. With them, she could experience what it was like to be with a family again, to hear laughter and see joy. But the armor of enmity kept her away from them, unwittingly warning her and reminding her of the past. To keep a border between what she was now and what she was before, she had dyed her hair black, started to wear black lenses and drew black lines around her eyes, and kept them since she was fifteen and started to learn how to fight. It didn't only help her separate herself, but it kept most of the people away.

_As if the air's short around me particularly  
_

_I feel suffocated, heavy in the chest like mad  
_

_The sky falls down, my tears falling  
_

_Scattering over the clouds under my feet  
_

_Don't leave me_

_Don't_

"But… now you're with your aunt and uncle now. You still have your sister." He spoke as if he was trying to console her. She smiled faintly, but not at him.

"Yeah, that's what I hate so much about people; they don't see what they've still got, only what they've lost." She was twisting her words again. It didn't take long for Optimus to figure out what she was actually implying.

"Are you saying… you hate yourself?" Misery flinched. She didn't answer.

"You might resent me for saying this… but in my opinion, you're just very lonely. You want somebody in your life."

_I'm a very difficult person_

_  
I know I'm broken_

_  
But I wish you wouldn't give up on me_

_  
If only I could be fixed, I'll be very beautiful in fact_

__

So please don't let go of me

"How do you know?" Misery snorted. Who was he, to talk about her as if he _knew_ her?

"I had a lover. I lost her just before I came to this planet," He spoke slowly, "When I found out, I was devastated. It hurt so much, I thought I'll never be able to love anyone again. Yet still, it healed, with help of my comrades and friends. It does help to allow someone into your life."

"What if it doesn't?" Misery retorted, her voice slightly wavering, "What if they turn against you and hurt you too?"

_The shadow of loss seems to be particularly around me_

_  
Especially dark and thick_

_  
The faith collapses, taking away_

__

the very last breath I depended on so much

"That is life, Misery. It cannot be perfect. It may hurt more often than other times. But if you make it to the end, even the sorrows become beautiful songs."

_Don't leave me_

__

Don't

"May be. May be not." she murmured, wrapping the blanket around her tighter. Optimus could see that she was broken. Yet the pieces of heart need to be mended if she were to go on with life. No one could possibly last long without a heart. He watched as she stood up and walked to her bedroom.

_I'm a very difficult person_

_  
I know I'm broken_

_  
But I wish you wouldn't give up on me_

_  
If only I could be fixed, I'll be very beautiful in fact_

__

So please don't let go of me

"Good night… Felicity." Said Optimus. Misery stopped for a moment, but she did not turn around. There was a moment of silence.

"Good night, Optimus." Her reply came, but before he could fully register that she'd actually said that, she'd already gone to her room.

_Don't leave me…_

* * *

This is the LONGEST chapter I've ever written. I might've made heaps of mistakes… well, now you can see why I write short chapters. Haha. **REVIEWS!**


	11. Prelude to the vacation

Thanks to all the sympathetic reviews concerning Misery… I'm really sorry about the dreadfully long break. I had to squeeze my brain in order to get a new idea for the next chapter and to kindle the romance, AND fight the writer's block which hasn't gone away yet. It's kind of a long story, but basically, I was sick of my OOC-ness, cheesiness and the OC-centredness of this story, it took me more than a month to finally at least _try_ to continue on with it. After all, there must be _some_ people who like this story… So here it is, this crazy and insane idea of mine. May contain come OOC-ness. No flames, hopefully!

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN TRANSFORMERS. I ONLY OWN THE PLOT AND THE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS OF THIS FANFIC.**

* * *

Summer was here. And everyone couldn't believe that the time had gone past so quickly.

"-and, as you all know, I hope you have a nice and safe holiday." Said Mr. Kendall, concluding the final day's lesson and opening the door to the start of summer holidays. The students practically danced around the classroom, glad of the Sabbath they've just been given. Everyone was chatting excitedly about how they were going to spend their vacation. However, Sam, Mikaela and Misery knew exactly how they were going to do it; they had decided to go on a vacation at a beach some distance away from the Tranquility, with the Lennox's and the Autobots. It was all agreed before the holiday had started. They were leaving tomorrow, for days of sunbathing, saltwater and sandy beaches, to forget whatever the remnants of battle that was still left. _It's going to be great_, thought Mikaela idly as she slung her bag on her shoulder, _I just know it._

* * *

_Who'd said this was going to be great?_ I wanted to argue, but it stayed in my mind. Seeing May all fluttering and flying about in excitement wasn't so bad after all. After all, it was her first time going away on a holiday. Jumping up and down on my bed, running around the bedroom while I packed my stuff, she chattered delightedly about what she wanted to do at the beach. It occurred to me suddenly, that this was actually her first time seeing the sea. I smiled, imagining her surprised face.

"-and, and- I wanna see if there are seals in the water!" she breathed, exhilarated, big smile on her face. I had no choice but to laugh as well. I was about to say that there were no seals in that beach, but my guardian appeared at the door.

"Do you need any help?" he asked. I shook my head. May jumped down from the bed and her feet landed on the floor with bang. She impatiently looked down on me kneeling on the floor and putting in the last bunch of clothes in. As soon as the suitcase closed with a shut-tight click, and at the exact timing, May threw her arms around me.

"I just can't wait, Fel!" her cheeks were red, her eyes twinkling innocently into mine. I smiled, but kept my eyes away from her, feeling sorry and guilty somewhat. Not knowing where to fix my eyes, they wandered around the room over May until they met with Optimus'. The sky-azure eyes only seemed to stare right through my eyes and brain and into my heart, so I quickly turned my eyes away. I could feel his gazes still, but ignored them with effort. Optimus chuckled at May's enthusiasm, and she let go of me to wave him a hello.

"Good afternoon, young one," he said, "You look wonderfully exhilarated."

"I'm just too happy, Mr. Prime!" she did a little dance, spinning and holding her hands high up in the sky. Since when did May call Optimus 'Mr. Prime'? I tried to hide my amused grin as I watched her, "We're all going away on a special trip! We'll get to see seals!"

Optimus stifled a laugh-I raised my eyebrows at that. He could laugh? I'd never seen it- and started to answer. "Young one, I'm afraid there is no-"

"Don't kill the kid's dream," I interrupted, and he's eyes diverted to me. I didn't dodge his eyes this time, but looked straight at him, before looking down on May and patting her hair. "You can see for yourself, May, when we get there."

"Yaaaaay!!" She sprintered out of the room, as high as a child could get high. There was a moment of strange silence.

"Sorry about that," I murmured, "She should know better to behave herself…" He shook his head, the ghost of the smile still on his face.

"It's nice to see such hopeful and young generation of this planet enjoying life." He seemed reminiscent. I could understand. From where he'd come from, there was nothing left now; the planet, according to his explanation, was now devastated and lifeless. He and his friends could be last of their kind. I felt sorry for them. I stooped to pick up the suitcase, only to stumble at its surprisingly heavy weight and to have Optimus catch the edge of it.

"I can carry this." I tried to pull it away from him, but he just snatched the whole thing and held it.

"But I will take it." he said, as he walked out of the room past me. I couldn't help but glare at the back of his head. I was not, not, NOT a damsel-in-distress, I could carry my own damn suitcase! I fumed, but kept silent and followed him outside to get into the semi-truck which was also my guardian's true form. May ran out of the house next, following Optimus' trail. I followed suit after locking the front door. As soon as I got in, the truck started.

* * *

Everyone was gathered at the Lennox's: Sam, Mikaela and their yellow car, which I assumed to be their guardian. The black Topkick and a yellowy-green Hummer truck. May was waving hands to them. I waved a hand to Uncle Will and Aunt Sarah, and nodded to the young couple. The weather was fine, sunlight bouncing off the roofs of the numerous cars.

"It's gonna be perfect," Mikaela was saying to Sam, smiling, "The sunny weather's guaranteed, at least, according to the weathercasts, and we can get going now since everyone's here."

It wasn't just her, but everybody looked excited. As for me, I only hoped that somehow I'll catch on with their cheeriness and at least look happy for once.

* * *

Errr… yeah, this is pretty much it. The next chapters… I'll try to update them as soon as possible. I apologize again to my good readers.

P.S: Damn the FF. What's it done to my chapter? Had to redo. Sorry again.


	12. Day: fun and games

Though it may seem random, I would like to dedicate this chapter to one of my good friends, whose name I shan't reveal. But I must say, that she was the one who inspired me to create the character of Misery; many of Misery's experiences and hurts are based on my friend's, which she has told me. So it's pretty much 'based on true story'.

May she find happiness someday as Misery may, at least in my story.

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN TRANSFORMERS. I ONLY OWN THE PLOT AND THE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS OF THIS FANFIC.**

* * *

First day was just the continuity of fun and games. The sun was bright, as always, and the weather was mercifully good, for their sake. Misery wouldn't have minded another torrent of rain, but she was grateful to see people having fun. The moment they arrived and left all the belongings in the lodging, everyone dashed out to play at the beach. The Autobots seemed to be fascinated with the ocean; its great salt water and borderless amplitude was something they did not have in their home planet. They'd all marveled at it when they saw it.

Misery sat on the field of white sand, away from the wet beach and the sea, watching Will and the Autobots' holo-forms play a game of beach volleyball. Sarah, May and Annabelle were just few feet away from them, making sand castles. May was laughing, with sand all over her t-shirt and shorts, but looking happy nevertheless. It brought small smile to Misery's own lips; it was good that the child was having fun. After all, Misery wasn't sure if _she_ could have some… It felt somewhat awkward to join other people. Though it was true that her previous 'talk' with Optimus had opened her eyes somewhat, a little, she still felt stiff about letting people into her heart. She couldn't help it. It was like an old reflex, embedded into her bones and heart. _And after all, some measures of security won't hurt anyone…_ she thought.

"_You might resent me for saying this… but in my opinion, you're just very lonely. You want somebody in your life."_

"_I had a lover. I lost her just before I came to this planet…"_

"_When I found out, I was devastated. It hurt so much, I thought I'll never be able to love anyone again. Yet still, it healed, with help of my comrades and friends. It _does_ help to allow someone into your life."_

"_That is life, Misery. It cannot be perfect. It may hurt more often than other times. But if you make it to the end, even the sorrows become beautiful songs."  
_

_**Don't leave me.  
**_

Misery shook her head, hard. "Ugh, damn it all. Just… go away."

"Do you want to be left alone right now?" she heard a voice, and she turned to see Optimus standing there- his holo-form, to be exact. She blinked.

"No, uh…" she hesitated, "I was… just talkin' to myself." _What a timing._ She scolded herself inwardly for not keeping her thoughts inside herself.

"Lot of thoughts in your mind?" he asked, slightly more casual. He sat down next to her, not too close but not too far. Even in this hot, sunny weather, his holo-form was wearing the uniform-like jacket and trousers, blue in background with red flames. Even Misery, who rarely wore anything other than dark-colored, long-sleeved polo necks and jeans, was wearing something different for the occasion: a pair of shorts, a jacket and a sleeveless shirt under the jacket. The jacket was perhaps a bit too big for her, but it was her favorite item of clothing.

"Kinda," she muttered, squinting against the sun. It was stupid, she knew, to be out in the sun without any sort of protection against all the ultraviolet rays, but she couldn't be bothered. Again. The shouts from the men caught her attention. It seemed that her uncle had scored. He was high-fiving Bumblebee, while Ratchet slapped Ironhide on the back in a reprimanding manner.

"Why don't you join your sister and aunt?" asked Optimus, gesturing towards the girls who'd begun to dig a sand tunnel.

"Why don't you join the guys? They're having fun alright." She replied back, just as same.

"Then the numbers wouldn't be equal." He lifted one eyebrow, seemingly annoyed that her back-talking attitude hadn't disappeared. She stifled a grin.

"I'd say that making sand castle at my age is a little too late, don't you think so?"

"It is never late to have fun, I think." He said matter-of-factly.

"Then why don't you?" She said mockingly, as if she was trying to irritate him; which, she was. "You're contradicting yourself."

"I…" he tried, but failed. It amused her to no end to see the great leader of Autobots at a loss. She turned her head to spot Mikaela and Sam, faraway from anyone of them- they were standing at the cliff of craggy rocks over the sea, in each other's arms. Misery clicked her tongue. _Teenagers…_

"How about you and I both join the game?" suggested Optimus, and Misery turned her attention to him, "That way, we would both be having fun."

"I don't know," she answered hesitantly. Would she like to? The answer was, **yes.** There was nothing else she would like to do more than a game of beach volleyball right now. But suddenly timid and closed up, she only looked down, hugging her legs to her chest.

"Do you want to stay here?" he asked, his face concerned.

"I don't know," she repeated, her voice smaller. As she buried her face behind her crossed arms holding her legs, she saw May. She was standing up, staggering a little as the repressed blood flow suddenly began to circulate through her legs. Misery could see May wave a hand in big arcs towards her older sister, and she smiled and waved in return. The child dropped the small spade she had been using and started to jog towards Misery, the jog turning into trot and trot becoming sprint. Misery stood up, alarmed. What was…?

"Fel!" May practically charged into Misery, draping her arms around her waist and almost knocking the thin teenager flat on the sand. Misery coughed a little, laughing. She softened May's curls and pinched her cheek lightly.

"Having fun?" May gave a big nod, huge grin never leaving her face. Tucking her hair behind her ears, Misery kneeled down to May's eye level, pulling her for another hug.

"Why'd you stop building the sand castle?" asked Misery as they separated.

"I thought maybe you'd like to make one as well," said May, "You kept looking at us." Misery's pale cheeks were tinted slightly pink at that.

"I was just making sure you were enjoying yourself and not getting into any trouble." She mumbled embarrassedly. May giggled, and started to pull her hand. "Come on, Fel! Let's dig some tunnels! It'll be fun!"

"Huh?" Without realizing, Misery was being dragged to the infinite plain of sand by her sister, where her travel-companions were. She casted a backward glance towards Optimus, who was standing, watching them, bewildered. Her eyes were almost pleading, which was –though he knew he wasn't supposed to find them- very comical. Optimus stifled his chuckle, returning her look with his best 'What am I supposed to do?' eyes. Truly, he was glad that they were here, away from the remnants of the battle and old hurt. He was amazed at the subtle, yet overwhelming beauty of this beach. It was unlike any he had seen, and he had seen a lot. Nevertheless, he was pleased that everyone was enjoying themselves, especially his comrades. And Misery. Ever since the rainy night, she was trying to change herself, trying to be bright but not so successful, regretfully. Still, it was a progress, and there was time. Time to begin anew. According to his research, holidays usually reinvigorated mind and body, to enable life to go on with much less stress. Certainly it would do the same thing for them.

_"Doing alright there, Optimus?" _It was Bumblebee, speaking through the telepathic frequency which only they and other Autobots could hear. When Optimus turned, he could see Bumblebee's holo-form standing, looking at him.

"I'm fine, Bumblebee. What is it?" asked Optimus. Bumblebee shrugged.

_"Felicity O'Neil's come to join our match. How come you haven't?"_

"What?" Optimus turned his attention from Bumblebee's holo-form, just in time to see Misery staggering a little as she entered the makeshift volleyball court. She was smiling awkwardly at the Autobots and her uncle, who seemed surprised. However, he soon grinned and playfully slapped her on the back, making her almost fall over. "I thought she was going to play with her sister and aunt."

_"Well, she isn't. Her little sister pushed her into joining us, seeing that she wasn't so eager of building a city out of sand,"_ Some laughter was mixed in his voice, but he kept speaking, _"The number's odd. Won't you join us, sir?"_

"I don't think I-"

_"Come on, Commander. You know you want to."_ Ironhide butted into the conversation, his tone burlesque. Optimus had to smile, albeit little.

"I think I'll pass, thank you very much, Ironhide-"

_"Aw, come on, Optimus,"_ said Bumblebee, goading,_ "Pretty please?"_

"I don't think that's-"

_"It could be your chance to get to know Miss O'Neil better, perhaps,"_ interrupted Ratchet, whose holo-form was casually looking up at the sky. Optimus paused in the middle of whatever he was going to say. _"You know, playing games together and all. It might help you get along."_

_**Should I?**_

After a moment of hesitation and consideration, Optimus walked to the field of wet, hardened beach to join them. The Autobots grinned at him, and Optimus smiled awkwardly back in return. Misery stared at him, her eyebrows raised; she had not expected him to join. _Well, it certainly evens the number…_ she thought as the team was split: Ironhide, Misery and Bumblebee were a team; Optimus, Ratchet and Will were in another.

"Don't think that I'll go easy on you just 'cause you're my niece, Felicity," smirked Will as he readied himself to serve. Misery only smiled warily.

The ball flew above the net, drawing an invisible arc through the sky and sunlight. Shouts burst out from a player to player, praising and alarming at the same time. It was Bumblebee who scored first, with a powerful backcourt attack. Will tried to reach the ball, but even as he dived to get it, it only brushed his fingertips lightly and bounced off.

"Damn!" He punched the sand lightly with his fist. As he stood up, Ironhide and Bumblebee high-fived, Misery watching Will somewhat smugly.

On the second game, Will's team redeemed itself, attacking with a new vigor. After few not-so-friendly exchanges of balls, Will's team started to play rough. Soon the roughness paid off, as the ball touched the sand on the side of Misery's team. Will congratulated his team members for scoring while Ironhide, on the other side, fumed. Misery giggled a little as she watched them, and unknown to her, Optimus raised his brows when he saw her laughing. She was, indeed, changing.

"Alright, let's go." The ball rose towards the sky, the sunlight momentarily blinding those who looked up to catch the sphere. The first attack was struck by Ironhide after few turns, who aggressively slapped the ball with a force that wasn't particularly necessary. After being flown and exchanged by the players, Ratchet hit it, and it headed towards Misery. She took a stance to catch it, and with all the force she had, she jumped up, her legs flinging her upright from where she 

stood, her right arm stretched to smack the ball. She did, and she could feel the tingly, satisfying sensation as the leathery exterior made contact with the skin of her palm. The ball, in a dazzling speed, swished past the men and thudded on the ground. The silence was momentary, as Ironhide, with huge grin, slapped her on the back. She coughed and managed to smile faintly, though the pain had caused some tears to well up in her eyes. Optimus eyed her, surprised. The movement and the reflexes she showed were quite unexpected.

The match was over, with the score of 2 to 1.

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Heeey. This is baaad… I'm sorry, as I am writing this, I am not exactly in a fit condition. Lack of sleep, should I say… So anyhow, if you liked it, please leave reviews!!


	13. Night: Black and white

Congratulations to MikaelaBanes for the hundredth review! And SPECIAL THANKS to every reviewers! 100 reviews! I still can't believe it! (faints)

And I'm awfully sorry for updating late these days. Exams and writer's block. Egh!

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN TRANSFORMERS. I ONLY OWN THE PLOT AND THE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS OF THIS FANFIC.**

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The moonlit night of the beach was somewhat eerie. The salty air and twisting wind made me slightly dizzy, but it felt cool as the wind brushed past my hair. The waves were gently swashing the sand, as if they knew it was night. I was barefooted, and the sand was grainy against the soles of my feet. It was like a scene from a cheesy, third-rate romance movie of black-and-white 60's; the sky, the moon, the sea, the plains of sand, and even me. Everything was either black or gray or white. I held up my hand in the moonlight; it was the color of bloodless white, shadowed slightly gray. My skin was white; the clothes were gray, and my hair was black.

I felt strange, soaking in the moonlight. And the sloshing water looked as pure as it had never been. It made me want to dive in. It was alright; that was why I came out here in the middle of the night in the first place. Then someone might ask, why I didn't just make a swim when it was brighter, in the day. I had my own reasons. The water's warmer in the night anyway. After looking around the forlorn beach and making sure that there was no one except me, I took off the big, waterproof jacket I was wearing and stepped into the seawater. The water was definitely warm compared to the night air. The water sucked me in, like a mother embracing a child. And I gave into it, plunging my whole body into it. I was floating like that on the water, like a drowned corpse, without a hint of strength in my body. Then I tentatively started swimming, as if I were a child learning how to swim. Soon I was fighting against the currents, enjoying the feeling of it. I laughed, couldn't stop it. It was funny; no matter how much I tried, I could still be myself only when I was by myself. I didn't think of myself as a very self-conscious person, ironically. That was another bitter truth I had recently discovered.

I was enjoying my late-night swim thoroughly when I heard footsteps in the midst of waves. I stayed low in the water, only my head peeping out. Though the current made it hard for me to stay still in one spot. The footsteps were half-muffled by the sands, but the swishing sands as the stranger walked the beach made it quite obvious that someone _was_ there. Just _who_, I wondered.

The footsteps stopped. I could only see the stranger's legs, but that revealed to me quite easily who it was. _What was he __**doing**__ here? Didn't he ever sleep?_

I wasn't quite sure whether if robots did. They would surely have different mechanisms from humans. I shook my head lightly, waving those trifle thoughts away. I did not want to appear as a strange girl who was reluctant and hesitant in the daylight, but jumped into the sea to have a midnight swim. But then again, did I care what people thought about me? No. But for some reason, I didn't want to walk out of this water and let him see me.

"Why are you hiding?" he remarked, startling me and making me lose my ground on the sand. Why did he have to make me feel guilty, as if I had been stealing something? I managed to stand up properly, water dripping. The air was freezing cold to the wet skin, I was already chilled to the bones when I was on the beach. Optimus picked up the jacket I had dropped and draped it over my shoulders. I held on tight to it.

"Your lips are blue. How long have you been in the water?" he asked, nonchalantly and gently taking my face in his hands to look at me better. I flinched, and he removed his hands.

"Long enough." That I managed without shivering getting in the way of my words. When I lifted my eyes to meet his, his face was concerned. Damn, that guilty feeling again. Why did I care what he thought of me? I was almost starting to hate him for this. For affecting my thoughts.

"You could have caught cold, or worse, pneumonia."

"Please. In the middle of summer? I don't think so." I tried to hold some measure of mocking tone in the voice, and miserably failed. I was just too _cold_.

"Your body temperature's 0.3 degrees lower than normal." he said as he wrapped the jacket around me tighter.

"I thought that was the kind of thing that your doctor would say." I commented absentmindedly, reminded of that alien doctor with funny hair color. Optimus smiled. It took all my restraints not to look at him.

"He does say that kind of thing, time to time. But all of us have fundamental scanning function, which can find out the most basic facts. You could have had hypothermia."

"Pfft," I scoffed, escaping from his too-warm hands and walking back to the lodging. He was too warm for someone too cold like me, I was almost afraid he might scald me. He followed me, not saying anything. And it would have been nice, just walking in silence, but a wind blew quite strongly, and I lost my grip on the jacket. It was flung back, and before I could force my body to chase it, Optimus had already gotten a hold of it and was walking towards me to give it back. I wrapped one arm around myself as tight as I could to relieve the cold, and hoped that he wouldn't see my bare skin. Wordlessly he shook the sand from the jacket, and I reached out my other hand to retrieve it. He was about to give it to me when he suddenly stopped. I tilted my head, in 'what?' motion.

"… Your wrist," he silently spoke, and I immediately retracted my hands, already cursing furiously in my head. _Damn! Why the __**hell**__ did I forget it??_ He grabbed my wrist as I was withdrawing my arm, and held it tight within his hands, so I wouldn't be able to escape.

"Let go," I growled, glaring at him. He was didn't react.

"I have to see if you're injured." He said, and I struggled.

"I'm fine! For god's sake, let me go!" But he had already seen my wrist and scars on it. I bit my lips. That was where I had cut, not only once, but several times to kill myself. It had hurt more than any beatings I had ever taken. The first cut wasn't deep enough, so I had had to force the blade over the already bleeding flesh over and over again. The pain of it was enough to make me swear off the wrist-cutting again. But the scars remained, the reminder of what I'd tried to do and failed. What the life used to be like: a living hell.

Optimus lifted his eyes, looking straight into mine, his gaze again piercing and all-knowing. I turned my face away, ashamed.

"Are these the scars you inflicted on yourself?" he asked quietly. I nodded. His hold on my wrist was looser now, but he was still holding it within his unbelievably warm hands, fingers gently tracing the criss-cross scars. It sent an odd shiver up my skin.

"Would you tell me how you got these?" His tone was strangely commanding; as if it gave me no other choice but to explain. I sighed, and told him.

"Mike. One day he'd beat me so hard, then left me on the floor to get a drink from the local bar. I didn't have much strength left, but somehow I managed to get a knife from the kitchen. Then… I don't know, I was just… I started cutting. The first one wasn't deep enough, so I tried again… and again… and again… and… yeah, I was pretty much bleeding the whole bathtub full of blood," I took a breath and glanced at him. He was still listening, to my dismay, "I was… rather happy, I should admit, at the time; I was just so glad to leave this goddamn world and all its pain. I was sick of the whole bad lucks they kept dumping on me. But then, when I was about to close my eyes, May came to me. She looked scared, worried, and asked me if I was alright. I was bleeding." 

I laughed a little, remembering the time. But he wasn't laughing.

"When I saw her, I'd realized that I'd done something terrible. I was being selfish. I was just going to leave May all by herself in this world. Would I have been really able to rest in peace even if I'd succeeded in killing myself?"

The question was posed to me, not at him. And thankfully, it was still unanswered; otherwise I wouldn't be here, on the beach with Optimus Prime. His eyes were still fastened on me and I squirmed a little, awkward. He let my wrist go, but it was as if his fake-human form's warmth had left a bruise on where his fingers had gripped.

"You could have told me sooner; Ratchet can erase these scars in no time-"

"I like them as they are," I cut his words in the middle, may be too hurriedly. I wouldn't want to explain to him again, all the reasons why I isolated myself. When a human spends too much time in the shadows, the person soon becomes entirely accustomed to it. When faced with a bright light, the person can't survive, because his eyes are too used to the darkness, ears to the silence. May be that was the case with me. I was already too shut-up in my own world of darkness, I couldn't risk lights shining through. It would take bone-breaking efforts to allow the rays of lights to break in.

"Are there any other scars?" I flinched at his question. Why did he have to ask that? But even if I'd lied, sooner or later, he'd find out, with that amazing scanning ability of his. Better to just tell him and get over with it. Though I didn't like the feel of getting interrogated, I turned my back against him and lifted my wet hair from the nape of my neck. There was an ugly scar there, quite a big one, the reason why I always let my hair down even in the most stiflingly hot summer.

"Do you see it?" I asked.

"Yes." His reply strangely sounded as if he was being strangled.

"That was when Mike got so drunk and so pissed, he hit me with an empty beer bottle," I said, "I was rather lucky it was empty. If it had been full, it would also have given me a brain damage. After I was bleeding like hell and passed out, Mike got so scared he took me to one of the neighbors, a seamstress, to stitch it." I let out a heartless laugh, but he kept quiet. I let go of my hair and lifted the wet t-shirt that was clinging to me, to show him the scar around my right side. It was a long one, starting around my right hip and snaking almost up to my navel.

"That one," I paused for a moment; when did I get that? I couldn't remember properly, "I don't 

really remember well, but probably that was when Mike was kicking me around outside, and ended up pushing me to a barbed-wire fence. I was caught on it and it ripped me. Hurt like hell." I frowned, reminded of that flesh-ripping pain. It was definitely not one of my fondest memories. I turned to look at Optimus, but he wasn't giving me one of those I-know-everything look that made me uncomfortable. There was a faint glow in his eyes; what were they? Some part sympathy, some part concern, and… some other things I couldn't decipher. His eyes were the only things that had color in this bland background, where everything was black and white. I was contrastingly gray against his blue ambiance. Even in a human disguise, this leader's charisma was undeniable. It made me feel very small and insignificant. I turned away from him, pulling away from his grip. I thought I felt a light touch on my shoulder, but I ignored it and started to walk. And yet there were so many other hidden scars on my body, unexplained and visible in some parts.

"C'mon, it's freezing here." I muttered, securing the jacket tightly over myself once again, the moisture leaving me chilled. And he followed me suit, not saying anything. The night was blatantly cold, and the silence was lingering in the air, like my old scars. Only the waves were audible.

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… There! DONE! Haha, I'm feeling so good about myself that I'd managed to finished this chapter. Go me! I need some other inspiration or something to refuel my passions for TF… god. **Reviews**, people!


	14. What one's stupidity can bring

Hey guys! I'm so sorry for taking so long to update. As I'd said before, I was sick of my own crappy writings, to put my problem simple. In two words: writer's block. Or a dilemma. However you want to call it, I'm still trying really hard to overcome my extremely low self-confidence and self-esteem. Again, I apologize sincerely to all the readers. And special big THANK YOU's to everyone who's stuck with me and Misery so far! XD

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN TRANSFORMERS. I ONLY OWN THE PLOT AND THE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS OF THIS FANFIC.**

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The mall wasn't very crowded in the morning. The weather was, regretfully, so ideal for a day out. And May, she was twirling and dancing around, always too happy to be outside. She was so spritely happy, it almost made me dizzy. It was hard to keep up with her.

"Slow down, May, no one's chasing you." I said, trotting to take her hand. She giggled, then laughed.

"_You_ are chasing me."

"Because you keep running away from me. I told you to stay close to me, May. And _don't_ run so much."

"But you're too slow!" she gave me a big smile, "and Mr. Prime's slow too!"

At that, I looked back. Optimus, with an awkward smile on his face, came up to us. He stood out in a quite exquisite way, in the midst of the human environment. I sighed, turning my attention to the child. Really, she was all mature and that, but in situations like this, she was nothing if not a child…

"May, this is a public space. We aren't here just by ourselves. We have to be considerate of other people." Ironic, since I didn't give a damn what the others thought. But she nodded nevertheless, though it was visible that she was having a hard time trying to suppress the giddiness.

"I'm just happy, Fel," she squeezed my hand; she might as well squeezed my heart, "To be out with you. And Mr. Prime."

I knew that he was smiling again, though I didn't look at him. May pulled me again, this time much stronger, saying "Come on!" I had no choice but to be dragged by May, who was lopping to catch Optimus as well.

Ah, yes. I was in the middle of the Tranquility Mall, twenty-six minutes past eleven in the morning, Sunday, with May and my guardian. As to why I am here, and what I am doing here…

* * *

It had all been on an impulse.

No, correct that. May be not. May be. I don't know. But one thing is sure: I'm never, ever going to act on pure impulse. Ever again. It's because of the stupid impulse that I had landed in this uncomfortable situation. Damn, damn, damn.

It was a Saturday afternoon, the weather as bad as it could be. The sky was sort of rotten mushroom-colored, and I was idly mulling whether I should hang the laundry out or not. Then I realized that as I was thinking, I had been washing the same dish for the fifth time. I sighed and put it down. I hadn't been myself lately; ever since the trip to the beach, to be exact. To be _more_ exact, since I'd talked with Optimus at the beach. When I'd shown him my scars. His reaction. The black-and-white moonlight, lifeless sand, lifeless water, lifeless me, and only him in colors. How vibrant and radiant he had shone, he seemed so far away from me, as if we were in different dimensions. I was a shadow compared to him. The mere thought of it was enough to awake my buried-in shame, low self-esteem. I didn't like to admit it. I didn't even want to think about it, so I pushed the thought away, and stopped comparing myself to him. Whatever.

"Do you need help with anything?" the voice was gentle alright, but it was enough to snap me out of my thoughts and startle me. I managed not to let out a sound and save my nowadays-wavering dignity, but dropped the dish I'd been washing. It made a racket as it smashed into pieces on the floor. Immediately bending down to pick the pieces up to avoid further damage-and hide my unwillingly flushing face- I wanted to curse his excellent ability to appear with so much stealth… or was I just too lost in my thoughts?

"I'm sorry," Optimus apologized almost as quickly as I had bent down, and he reached to pick up the pieces as well, "I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's okay," I said, as nonchalant as possible. Suddenly, I wanted to be angry at him for always trying to help- which was ironic and would sound very ungrateful. He was doing his job already by just simply _staying_ with me, thank you, but that was good enough for me. Sure, it was in his nature to always be willing to help and serve… but why it got so much on my nerves I had no idea. "Leave it. I'll clean the mess."

"Let me help you." he picked up the pieces, quick and efficient, and deposited them into the rubbish bin. Cleaning up was over as quickly as the mess had occurred. I sighed lightly as I wiped my wet hands on the tea towel.

"Look…" he turned to me as I spoke, "You're my guardian. I accept that. And thanks a lot for all the protection and stuff." He opened his mouth to say something at that, but I lifted a hand. I wasn't done yet.

"But you're not my maid. Your job is to protect me. That's all I ask-or rather, _want to receive_- from you. I can do the chores myself." I also wanted to comment on him sometimes acting like a counselor, trying to get me talking and open myself to people, but decided against it. Optimus was already looking at me with an undecipherable stare. I felt strangely guilty again.

"I'm not quite sure I understand," he said slowly, "but I thought that my job as your guardian was to protect you and look after you. Your uncle and aunt had asked me to do so, and I agree with them. A guardian does not simply _guard_ his protégé; he _takes care_ of her."

"Well, for your information, I'm not a child. I don't need help in… in… just cleaning up my mess." The guilt was weighing down on my voice, forcing it to tune down. He kept his straight face with an amazing ability, but I could see that he was hurt, and it didn't help me with my guilt. _Damn it._ Just damn, damn, damn, damn, _damn._ I was sure I wasn't doing anything wrong, but why was I feeling this way? I couldn't understand, and it frustrated me.

"I am sorry if I had made you feel so. I didn't intend it." he apologized again, and all of a sudden, I realized why I was feeling so. Despite all the hardships and problems he had encountered, his heart and soul was still as pure and clean as they were in the beginning, though it may be scarred from the hurts of the past. Goodness _was_ his nature. It conflicted so hard with jagged edges of _my_ heart and _my_ soul, that even the minor hostility from me hurt him. Like how I would be hurt if May had acted as coldly as I just did, to me. He only meant good. I understood it in my head, but couldn't exactly appreciate it in my heart. He was the supreme commander of all the Autobots, and a fierce warrior, yet a few people would know that he was as vulnerable to hurts as humans could so easily be squashed by hostile alien robots.

At his apology, something broke inside of me.

"You know what? Just… don't apologize. Don't try to help me. Actually, it would be much better if you just didn't talked to me, or tried to communicate with me." I had started out quietly, but it became a noisy and confused rant. I mustered all the courage to look into his eyes, and if he were anymore fragile, I would have seen hurtful look in his eyes. But he was not a human, nor any other thing close to it, and he admirably remained expressionless. Instantly, the guilt hit me, a hard mental slap to my face.

"I'm sorry," I blurted out. For the first time in a long period, I was completely _not_ myself, "I don't know why I'd said that- I- I meant, that I _am_ grateful for all you're doing for me- and May- but I just don't want you to exert yourself too much, it's too much of a pressure and I don't feel too good about it as well-" _Nice going, stupid._ Another mental kick.

"No need to apologize, Misery. I understand." _Do you?_ I bit my lower lip silently in guilt. _Things are going just great_, "But I wish you would rather let me be helpful to you. It's not only because it is a part of my job, but also because I want to. Hopefully with time, you'll understand me. As I had said before, I would never do anything to harm you or hurt your feelings. I only wish to protect you."

"I know," I muttered lamely, looking down. I was just too imperfect. In the end, I wasn't angry at him, but at myself; my immature, silly, lingering-in-past self. Breaking the armor was harder then death itself.

He nodded at my answer, and began to scan the kitchen for any shards that had gone unnoticed. Though he seemed undisturbed, I was sure I had hurt him. I wanted to make it up to him; that was the least I could do.

"Hey," the rest was all automatic, "I'm taking May out to the mall tomorrow. Want to come with us?" He blinked. My face was instantly burning like hell; I turned around, determined not to let him see it. God, what was wrong with me?

"To the mall? With you and your sister?" he asked incredulously. My back to him, I nodded slightly. Words, once said, could not be picked up again; I felt stupid, really stupid.

"You don't have to, if you don't want to," I said, "after all, it's just a simply sister-outing. And I think you should take a break from, you know, all the protecting and bodyguard-stuff."

"Break?" he carefully placed a hand on my shoulder. I tried not to jump, "Misery, as I'd just said it, it is my sole duty to protect you. And as a soldier, I shall do so without failure. You need not worry."

"I'm not _worrying,_" I said. Damn, it was just too hard to argue with this… this man! "It's just that… it's just that…"

I failed at defining what 'that' was, so I just carried on after a breath. "Don't worry. It's just that I didn't want to be rude-"

"If it is fine with you and your sister," he interrupted my meaningless speech gently, so softly that I was almost thankful, "I would indeed like to accompany you."

I actually gulped. Then, still not looking back, I nodded. "Okay."

* * *

And that was what had brought me, May, and the great leader Optimus Prime to the Tranquility Mall. At the noise of the big department store, I sighed, inwardly.

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Liked it? Then PLEASE review; seriously, reviews are one thing that gives me the strength and inspiration to continue on with the story. Thank you!


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